Matchstick Houses
by Loves Ironic Tragedy
Summary: COMPLETE. Without any warning other than a lack of oxygen, he shoves me into the wall and backs away, wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand, smirk resting comfortably on his lips. He winks. "Roxas." /AkuRoku. M for reasons. Good summary's back!
1. Devil's Spawn

**Houses of Matchsticks **

**Devil's Spawn**

_Four Years Prior…_

Four families, three seemingly unconnected cases, two rapes, and a secret that will never go shared is the record of a man that went by no name, only a disturbing mug-shot shown on the eleven o clock news. As the spawn of him and my mother, I, Axel, can honestly say that I am the son of one of the greatest killers to grace the county in twenty years. He was locked up about a decade ago; no one knew this devilish man had a son. They had no idea that his offspring would carry the torch in his back pocket, lit by the carrier himself with a silver-cased lighter with the initials of his favorite author- reading E.A.P –etched into the side just in case someone suspected this lighter of any wrongdoing. I would drop all connections to it in a nanosecond to save myself should a situation like that come up.

My father was a family man. He loved us to death what with the way he cheated on my mom and smacked me around like some sort of Weebul that wobbles but does not fall down. Oh I fell down alright—every sucker punch to the gut sent me into the wall; every smack across the face left a tingling red handprint on my cheek; every last insult was a brick dropping on my skull, ever-slowly breaking it down bit by bit. I could take it. I was never a weak little boy. The very thought of that made me sick and sent me into fits of rage. Weakness was a flaw I would never bear, I promised myself at a very young age. Father would never let it happen anyway. With how he treated me I was never weak. By the time I was thirteen, my mom was paranoid and refused to leave her room; if she did she would go into panic mode. Shortly into my thirteenth year, dad was arrested and mom was hospitalized, but until the very end she protected my existence. She would come up with excuses for all the boy stuff lying around the house and lie through her teeth. She even went so far- when the police first showed up at our house –as to order me to burn my own birth certificate. That was coincidentally the day I became a pyromaniac. After destroying proof of my existence, I escaped with the lighter I used to do the dirty deed.

I fled. A year later was the first incident in a series that would send my neighborhood into frenzy and the police into a frantic goose chase. They had no clue that their target did not exist. They had no proof that I was ever born. I never did so hot in school so my parents never hung anything up on the fridge. I was a deprived boy with a lot of anger to release. I had no clue what to do with it. Now living with my aunt- the only person outside immediate mom/dad family that knew of my life –I was becoming enamored with fire. It started with the way I ended my life simply by igniting a sheet of paper. The way the reds and oranges flickered fascinated me. They gave me pleasure. They made me want more. They made me want to do things that were not healthy or safe or anything you are taught in school. So I gave in to the temptation caused by a single, simple silver lighter.

I would always light candles for my aunt's baths. I would start the fireplace if she ever asked. I would aimlessly stare into the whispering flames of my lighter for hours without saying a single word, not needing any other way to convey my fascination. That was, until one night, sometime around midnight, I snuck out of my aunt's house with a horsetail rope, my prized possession, a two-liter bottle filled with gasoline, and a piece of paper. I skillfully ducked to the back of the house, which thankfully had a high-up porch where I could hide. I could see the forest behind the house, the street in front of it, tall hedges surrounding it on both sides. It was like a castle protected by a mote. The downside of the mote—when the castle catches fire, the king and queen cannot escape.

I poured a little gasoline on one of the porch's stilts, the shingles, and very carefully got the crack between the door and the ground wet with the liquid without going up the steps. I tightly knotted the eighteen foot rope around the same stilled I doused in gas. I took the rest of the rope and edged quietly towards the woods, trying not to step on twigs. I did not want anything to ruin this for me. If this town thought my dad was an artist with his mastery of covering his tracks, wait until they saw my artwork with the way I was about to paint this house a thousand shades of ember. My dad could never think up something this clever, though. Unlike him, I had no concern for the people in the two-story home. They never did me wrong, but so what? They were my victims. This is the way it had to be.

With no more rope to tug, I whipped out my lighter and stared at it. This was it. Once I lit this gasoline-dipped rope on fire, this house was going down and there was nothing anyone could do about it. I stuck the tip of the rope to my lighter. Flick. I ran into the forest behind the house and slyly made my escape through the dense thickets. If I could get far enough, they would never catch me.

Not even eighteen hours later, I caught a report on the news at my aunt's house, which I temporarily decided to reside in until it was time to bolt, which I knew would come very soon. As my aunt wept at the story of her townspeople that lived no more than a hundred yards down the street, I tried to keep my composition. It was everything I could do not to laugh.

The television told us, "The Strife family- consisting of Sephiroth, Aerith, and their son Cloud –was killed earlier this morning when a fire, anonymously started with no clues leading to who might have done it. All that remained at the scene was a plain white sheet of paper tucked under the roots of a tree. Officials are saying that even though there are no leads other than this, the arson that murdered this innocent suburban family will go to prison for a minimum of twenty years, no parole."

_Real Time…_

I groan as my dead emerald eyes open to the May Sunday morning. I have dreaded this day since Isa took the liberty of not only getting me in as part of his church's congregation but signing me up for his support group. His whole 'purification plan' bothers me a little, but it could not hurt to get out of my apartment once in a while. I spend most of my time sleeping in various places around the single-bedroom hellhole I call _home_. I wonder how the owner was willing to sell to a non-existent person, but my fake ID- which technically is not fake –washes those trivial worries away. I glance at the ID sitting on the bedside table. It says my real name. It says my real age and that I turn nineteen in a few months. The shit cellphone on the same table as my ID rings. Caller ID reads _Saix_, which is my code name for Isa in case anyone snatches my phone. Everyone in here is under a faux name from my old accomplice Braig (listed as Xigbar) to my own personal therapist (who is really just the extremely intelligent son of one) Zexion, listed as Ienzo. It all has to be done out of caution. If one day they catch me for the mistake I made four years ago, then I will most definitely be fucked for life.

"Yo," I answer the phone that insists on ringing. I force myself to sit up. "What's up, Isa?"

"You remember you're coming to church with me today, right?" he asks, obviously agitated. Come on, I just woke up and the man's already on my case. Sometimes I really wish he would just go away, but if he had not been there for me in my most desperate time of need, then I would be in prison for a minimum of twenty years with no parole or bail.

"Yes, I do," I assure him, rubbing one of my eyes, scratching my head through the spikes of auburn hair that grow out of it. I never liked the way that it did its spikes. I always try to straighten them down and when I do I look _damn_ good, but it seems to bother Isa. My hair _used_ to be the color of a cherry, but now it is more like an apple. After burning down the Strife household I did my best to change my appearance so no one would remember the little boy Axel that used to run down the street, always carrying around a shimmery little lighter.

"Good. Get your lazy ass dressed. I'll be over in ten minutes."

"I hate you." I scowl at my wall, pretending it is Isa.

I hear him smiling through the aggravated tone in his voice. "I hate you too, Ax."

_Click._

Now _that_ is friendship.

"Why the hell did you have to drag me here?" I ask monotonously to Isa, who looks very different with his sky blue hair pulled into a low ponytail, white dress shirt tucked into pleated black plants over a pair of _clean_ gray Converses that are identical to mine only mine are the same color as my eyes- a striking jade green.

"You should really try accepting God instead of shoving him away, Ax. It does nothing for you if you sit around on your mopey ass all day. You don't even do anything anymore. Get out once in a while. Be cool. Go on a date. Get laid." Isa continues to list off suggestions that would never work for me because I never get out of the house. How can I get laid if I cannot get a date? And how can I get a date if I am at home asleep on the couch? It's like he has his head up his butt.

He is right about one thing—going on a date might do well for me.

Isa and I take seats in the left section of pews, sitting closer to the front than back. Boy was always a suck up to the big man. I never understand how he puts up with being such a pet.

The sermon starts, and within five minutes I am more than half asleep, struggling not to nod off. That is, until a blonde guy with at least six jars of gel in his hair walks up to the pastor in the front of the chapel. He stands before the pastor. The pastor seems to say a short prayer before having the man face the packed church, unafraid. It's weird. This guy looks really familiar, only when I picture him I'm picturing him smaller. I don't think I ever saw him in person. Maybe it was just a photograph in a newspaper or something.

"Let us not forget our lost loved ones," the pastor says. Lost loved ones, huh? I know how he feels; poor guy. "It is four years today since the death of Sephiroth and Aerith Strife; our own congregation member, Cloud- the only survivor of the catastrophic fire and the son of the lovely couple –has a few words he would like to say."

…You have got to be kidding me. I turn spastically to Isa, who wears a mere look of serenity on his face. My eyes are bulging out of my head. I smack him on the arm. He turns and glares at me. "What is it?" he hisses.

"Dude, I have to get out of here," I tell him as quietly as possible, trying to emphasize my fear. The room starts to close in on me. I know I must be sweating. I think I am going to explode. My stomach churns. My hair, which I actually managed to straighten this morning, is frizzing. My eyes are definitely wild. My head hurts. I feel like I am about to pass out. This world I built up for myself is about to fall apart and I do not want to see it.

Isa peaks an eyebrow. "Why?"

"You remember!" I spit at him. He wipes it blandly off his face.

Isa blinks a few times then nods knowingly. "Right—I forgot you killed his family."

"Ssh!" I hush him angrily and smack his arm again. "This isn't funny! You had to have known he was part of your church. Shit, _I_ didn't even remember today was the four-year. I don't keep track, but _they_ do! They still want me dead! This isn't cool, Isa!"

"Ax, you can't live life hiding from what you did. It's rather suspicious. If you don't face it and at least _pretend_ you didn't do it- at the _very_ least –then you shouldn't freak out at times like this. It isn't that bad. He has no idea who you are. You look different from four years ago. No one saw your face anyway. Now stop complaining or I'm going to shove my foot so far up your stupid ass that your brain will feel it."

I snort. "You're a _great_ pal, Isa."

He smirks and shrugs. "I know."

As much as I don't want to hear Cloud Strife speak a single word (especially since I thought I killed him) I put up with it as casually as possible. On the inside, though, I think I'm going to hurl.

* * *

Ah, I love that _new story_ smell. In this case, I smell smoke--lots and lots of smoke. Tell me what you think of this and I'll be happy to update.  
Basically, AkuRoku FTW story, but it isn't there yet. It's getting there, but isn't there quite yet. As I tell you in Heartless, I loves you!  
:D -Scotty


	2. Psychosocial

**Psychosocial**

Thirty minutes and thirty-two seconds, thirty minutes and thirty-three seconds, thirty minutes and thirty -_four _seconds pass as I sit in a support group with Isa. He finds no need to say anything to me (at all, whatsoever) and pays sharp attention to the other members of the group. So there's me, Isa, the facilitator girl, and three other guys- one being Cloud Strife, which completely makes me shit bricks. Why he would need a support group is beyond me. He isn't ugly; he doesn't have that many problems. Guy has the world lying out for him. Then I remember exactly why he must be here. It has been four years. _Four years_ since I killed his family. I took the people he loved most away from him. They were dead. They weren't coming back. They cannot come back. They cannot come back and it's my entire fault.

So that is probably why I am here with Isa. Little bastard decided to get me some help that I no longer need. I am just all, _dude. I am fine._ But no, he refuses to believe me. Then again, after burning down the Strife residence, I deserve all the guilt in the world.

I, being the pyromaniac currently lacking amusement I am, stretch my back while this antsy little blonde with a mullet- like he's from Kentucky or something stupid like that –is going bat-shit crazy on the guy next to him, who looks a lot like a chick I banged a few months ago. She was not that bad, but not good enough to get a callback. Nope. Not good enough for me. I need someone feisty that does not expect _me_ to do all the work. I am one guy. I do not have to do every little stupid thing some _girl_ asks me to do. It's just f-ed.

While blondie is going rip on the brunette with a sweet ass and soft skin (I would know) the door into this windowless room opens. In the doorway is possibly the most stunning sight I have seen in my whole life. He has spikey blonde hair, oceanic blue eyes hiding behind shrouds of mystery in the air around him. He wears a short-sleeved sweatshirt with black and white checkers and wears a fire red shirt under it with black straight-leg jeans. His shoelaces are just as wild as his hair—only with purple with lightning bolts. I notice as he walks over that one of his ears is pierced with a kinky little stud going through it. His outspoken eyes meet mine. His lips part a little.

The world stops. I mean, it completely halts in its rotation and all there is that is breathing and living is me and this radiant boy. He is pretty short, but who cares? That look on his face tells me that we are experiencing the exact same thing. He knows what I am feeling because he is having it too. And like in an effing movie, I suddenly want him more than anything else in the world.

When the world starts spinning again, I feel like fucking my life. I am depressed because that two-hour (two second) glance I share with that kid is over. I am mad because now I have to go back to listening pussies bitching about life. The worst is when the kid takes the seat next to Cloud Strife and rubs his back. Shit. They know each other? God, I hate you right now. You suck. How could you do this to me? You put this gorgeous creature in my life and I would sign my life away on a dime right now, but you throw in _this_ for fine print? That is not even funny.

The blonde facilitator looks at the boy and smiles. He nods in acknowledgement, but shrugs her off as soon as possible. It's like he is silently screaming for attention. If I ever got time alone with him, or even in public—I don't really care either way, I would give that boy all the attention in the world. He already has it! I hate thinking about this one guy so much.

Did I mention I swing both ways? Gender does not matter to me. I honestly could not care less about if you have a dick or a vagina. Either way, I want someone for who they are. How romantic am I, right? Not a romantic at all, actually. I have vowed to never fall in love. Love is something that I could not comprehend, even if I tried. You heard what I did to the Strife family, right? Then you know exactly why.

But this is the biggest episode of lust I think I will ever endure in my entire life. I swear if I have a hard-on right now I will hate my life. That is the last thing I need anyone to see. I hunch over, resting my elbows on my thighs and leaning forward. At least now if I have one it should be fine. If this is what one look at this kid does to me… Imagine how steamy everything else would be?

Fucking fantasies messing with my head make me wish that I had not killed the Strife family; that is one mistake I learned from, but I cannot fix it. Do you know what it's like to make a mistake and know you cannot fix it?

Isa elbows me in the side. I glower at him. He nods urgently toward the group around us. His eyes are screaming _your turn, dumb ass._

Everyone, even that beautiful blonde boy, is staring at me. I give a half-ass wave. "I'm Axel. I like to burn shit," I say simply.

The fidgety boy with a blonde mullet-Mohawk going on lets his eyes pop out of his head. He looks scared out of his mind. I raise an eyebrow to him curiously. "You're an arsonist?"

I hum and scratch my head shortly after noticing Cloud twitch a single, hardly noticeable time. "I never thought if it that way," I admit agreeably. "But yeah, I guess." A lie spews out of my mouth unexpectedly, but it is smooth as silk and nothing can keep it in. "I never do large-scale stuff, just small things. I like to light up old cars at the junk yard, semi-important documents, that kind of thing."

Cloud stares directly across the circle around me, eyes cold, his body stiff. He folds his arms over his chest and asks, "How does it make you feel to destroy things?"

That look in his dead eyes says that he is about to come back from the afterlife and kill me, taking me to hell with him. It completely contrasts the look in his friend's eyes; the kid seems enamored with the idea of arson. I wish I could tell him how not-great it is.

I shrug and rub the back of my neck. "Alive, I guess- like I have a purpose. Like there is some reason for me to get out of bed in the morning."

Cloud's eyes narrow. "How could _fire_ make you feel alive when all it does is kill?" he asks with an undertone that could kill.

I try not to respond physically by shaking or anything. I remain still, casual at best. "I… I have made my mistakes with fire, but nothing I could never fix."

_You lying bastard._

"Why break something that can't be fixed?"

_You fuck face. I wish I could kill you._

"There's nothing wrong with flames in houses of cards."

_You better burn in hell._

Don't worry, I will.

The corner of Cloud's lip twitches into a tiny smile. "I suppose you are right."

Well that was shocking.

My eyes shoot wide and I rub my head. "Yeah… Thanks."

After this whole stupid ordeal of a 'support group' ends, I'm the last to leave the room. There is no rush. I have nowhere better to be right now. Isa left to go schedule an appointment with his boss to discuss a raise. The group monitor girl went back to her post at the welcome desk. Me? I stood in the stairwell with my lighter, contemplating on whether to burn the place to the ground or not.

What am I saying? That is completely ridiculous.

Someone unexpectedly thrusts me against the wall, pinning me by my wrists.

"What the fuck!"

I force them back a little bit, but we're pretty evenly matched. Then, even less expected, they yank on my hair- causing me to wince –and uses dynamism against my mouth. I mean, I find myself locked up in this entirely too hot kiss with a mess of tongues and gasps for air and battles for supremacy. I open one eye, scared of who might be molesting me right now, but to my great and joyous surprise, it is the boy from earlier that I could never take my eyes off of without desperately wanting to look back at him. He has his thigh pressed against my groin in the midst of the kiss. I refuse to moan. I refuse to be the taker in this.

Without any warning other than a lack of oxygen, he shoves me into the wall and backs away, wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand, smirk resting comfortably on his lips. He winks. "Roxas," he introduces himself.

Am I being Punk'd?

No, seriously, am I being punked? What is this? Why did this kid just force me to make out with him? Okay, so maybe it was not force, but it was still shocking and I have no clue what just happened. How stupid am I, right?

"We should hang sometime," he suggests. I can only bring myself, facial expression stunned, to nod. Roxas approvingly simpers. "Meet me right here at this time tomorrow, got it?"

"…Sure."

What damage could it do, right?

"Good boy," he says coyly, walking over just to stare me momentarily in the eye before stroking my cheek. A diabolical and strangely attractive smile sits happily on his face. Something tells me that things are going to get real fucking crazy for me real fuckin' soon.

* * *

God, I love the song Psychosocial. Just throwing that out there. Anyway, I know this looks like it's going too fast but really, this is the perfect pace. (Ha. That's what he said.) It really is supposed to go like this because I magically planned out the entire story today and yesterday cooperatively in school. At least that shithole is good for something ._.  
So if you like it or want to see more, review. I'll probably keep working on it anyway, but reviews just make life SO. MUCH. BETTER.  
Awh hell yeah. They do.  
By the way, I like to burn shit just like Axel. Except last time I lit my thumb on fire.


	3. Don't Trust A BRO

**Don't trust a BRO.**

Before I fall asleep, I should probably call Zexion. He always wants me to check in at the end of the day and make sure I did not hurt anyone or blow anything up. I tell him I no longer need constant check-ups to make sure I am not hurting anyone. He tends to think otherwise. So I pick up my sexy little Samsung Intensity and dial Zexy-boy's number. He picks up on the second ring like he anticipated me calling. What a creep-ass punk.

"Hello, Axel," he greets me monotonously. What an exciting guy. I'll tell ya, I love him to death.

But I'll be lying.

"Hey Zex," I sigh deeply, wondering if it is humanly possible to sound as boring as he does on the phone. I mean, he is _so_ dull; he makes watching paint dry sound like sex. Watching paint dry might be a little harder. On second thought, no. Nothing is harder than sex with me. (That is, if you know what I mean by _hard_.) I bet that Roxas kid would enjoy it.

I love when the sexiest little bastard in the world randomly decides to make-out with me. It makes life worthwhile. I wonder it would be like to-"Can I help you?" Zexion asks rudely, interrupting my little diversion. I'm probably tearing him away from some book he is reading or something nerdy like that.

I snort and stretch my arms out above my head. "Forget about the nightly booty calls you have me make, sexy?" I rub my forehead. It is inexplicably tensing up and pissing me off.

"You're a bastard, Axel," he says one hundred percent seriously. I doubt he isn't smiling on the other end of the line because he always smiles when he makes some snarky comment.

"Way to go, Captain Obvious. Now that we've got that covered, can I go?" I request impatiently, my foot tapping against the footboard of my bed. Huh. I just realized my head isn't even on the pillow. No wonder I feel so tall.

"Did you burn anything down today?"

"…No?"

"Then you can go."

I smile appreciatively as if he could see it. "Thanks, bro."

"…Yep." I think he never says _you're welcome_ because then he would be obligated to do whatever it is he welcomes constantly. I bet he'll change his mind the first time he gets laid. Getting laid changes everything.

The human-size speakers pump out some bitch-ass song by Kevin Rudolf. Isa is all up on this brunette and I feel really bad for her; no one knows how bad he is when he's horny. It's fucking ridiculous. Dude's a rapist. Not many people know about it, but when he shows up at my place at four in the morning looking for a place to hide for the day after a forced fuck, you cannot help but know. It was pretty obvious after the cops showed up one night and tested me for drugs while Isa snuck out my window and climbed up to the roof of my building. It was crazy.

So Isa turns around and grins when he sees me. I think I can smell his breath from here. I look to my left and contort my face. No, it's not Isa's breath. Some half-naked chick with no underwear on is doing a handstand.

That is seriously nasty.

"Axey, baby; what brings you here?" Isa greets excitedly, throwing his arms up in the air, eyes twinkling perkily. His grin is open and welcoming. So is his boner.

"A call from you telling me you need a fucking ride because you're drunk off your ass." I crack my back and shove my hands in the pockets of baggy black jeans. "So when do you want to go?"

Isa smacks my arm and sticks his tongue out. "Come on, Ax. Chill out. I'm not going anywhere until you at _least_ meet my sister. I groan and rub my eyes. Isa laughs. "Live a little."

I want to tell him, "I've killed people. I've lived enough," but something tells me that would ruin his high. I don't know and don't care how much blow he's done tonight. I really don't. After I got off the phone with Zexion, I got a call from Isa bitching about how drunk he was. There's no way he can drive. I can see why. Then I realize he just said he has a sister.

I raise an eyebrow and glare with the spare eye. "I've known you since grade-school and you never told me you have a sister?" I ask, folding my arms. "You're an asshole." I sneer.

"Axel. Dude. Chillax, okay? See, there she is." He stands on one foot- a dangerous maneuver for Isa when he's tanked –and peers over a pile of people. He points profusely. "Right there," he declares.

I try to look in that general direction, but I don't see anyone with _naturally_ blue hair like Isa's. Actually, I think he is pointing to a blonde. A _blonde_? He has this hair the color of an ice cube and his sister is _blonde_? I bet she is some bitch… I bet they get it from their dad. Dad's always seem to be the bitchy ones. They're usually the total shit bags. I mean hey; look at mine.

"The blonde chick that looks like she has antennas?" I ask. "Dude her hair looks like a big yellow ant."

"And you look like a fucking porcupine, but you don't see me complaining, do you?" Isa mocks, shoving my shoulder. I roll my eyes. "Look, I'll bring her here, you're gonna meet her, and dude she is like your _perfect_ kind of bitch. Trust me."

Even though the look in his eyes screams, _don't trust me. Don't trust a ho. NEVER trust a ho. _I love how even he is giving away his whorish tendencies simply by looking at me. Poor guy had so much potential to be a pimp, but he doesn't give. He takes. I would know. Interesting shit is walking in on your best friend and some guy. The strange thing is, Isa _can_ give it. He's an effing molester, but if he's looking for just plain ol' sex, he takes it. He can't make up his mind at all. Anyway, basic gist is I can't trust him and he walks over to grab the sister that he never mentioned to his best friend.

He is such a douche bag.

Two minutes later- after the music has faded into a decent song that isn't by a wash-out (which I think it's the Chiodos version of Flagpole Sitta) and I witnessed two drunk chicks hitting on me (which I wasn't a huge fan of…) –Isa comes back with the ant-head girl on his arm. Her smile is devious—she is so hiding something. Her eyes agree with her. Did we not just go over this?

Don't trust a ho. NEVER trust a ho.

Because the ho won't trust me.

Just saying.

"Axeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeel, this is my sister," Isa introduces her. "Her name is Relane. Ain't she _gorgeous_?"

Yeah. About as gorgeous as your nasty-ass breath.

"Hey," I greet the girl blandly. Her eyes are a pure blue, but they have secrets. It is written all over her face and all under that too-short skirt and barely-there top. I wonder if chicks realize that some men do like women with class. I mean, I know this is _not_ the place to look for class (especially if their Isa's sister) but please, God: throw me a fucking bone, would ya? I don't enjoy accompanying myself with hoes.

"So _you're _the Axel I've heard _so much_ about?" Relane inquires slyly. I simply nod and shrug. Just keep it casual. "Isa told me _all_ about you. The one time I went over to his mom's house a couple years ago, there were pictures of you two all over his room. It was so disgusting it was cute."

I glance at Isa. "You flaming fag," I say with disturbance, shaking my head.

Isa folds his arms. "No, that's you, Axel," he sneers.

I glare. "Come on. I light my hair on fire _one_ freaking time…"

Relane laughs. "You two are so cute together." I gag at that comment. The blonde sister of my fag-ass friend beams. "As _friends_ I mean. Isa doesn't look good with anyone as a girlfriend."

I smirk. This girl knows where it's at. I think I like her more than I like her brother and I just met her. "So you two look _nothing_ alike. How does that work with you being sibs?" I point to Relane with my pinky and the blue-haired dip shit I call my best friend with my thumb. So it's like I'm holding an imaginary telephone. That's how cool I am.

Isa throws his arm over his sister's shoulder. "We share a douche of a dad."

"He sucks major ass," Relane agrees. "Our mom's actually know each other too, but they never like it when we hang out."

"Why not?" I ask. I suddenly wonder if my hair is matted. It's real hot in here. I unzip my dark sweatshirt.

Relane holds a finger to her little lips. "My mom heard this one telling me a story about this friend he used to have that burned down a house that had the family still living in it. She thought the evil would rub off on me, but…" She flicks her hand dismissively. "That ship sailed a long time ago."

I'm so bored. This is so boring. Why did Isa have to drag me here? I decide to try something new and see what happens. I look down at the floor, blink a few times, and just _know_ the look in my eyes has changed from flat to feisty. I growl lowly. "Someone sounds naughty."

She takes the bait, blushes slightly, but loses it to a devilish smirk. "No. Just hot," she purrs.

Now this is getting interesting. "You wanna play with _real_ fire?" I suggest, taking a couple steps closer to her and toying with strands of her hair. If she didn't have those weird ant-things she could be so much hotter. Why do girls purposely make themselves unattractive? Fucking antennas are going to endlessly piss me off. Maybe if she gets sweaty enough they'll cling to her face like bangs and I won't have to deal with it.

Maybe if I stop trying to entertain myself I won't think about fucking my best friend's sister! Aw man what the hell is wrong with me? Someone please get me out of here. Please. God, I know wherever you are you love me. So this is the last time I ask you for a bone until I really, _really_ need one! This is one of those times! I don't want to go anywhere with this chick. I would rather blow myself up!

And on cue, as if some higher power was once again watching my sorry ass, I found a distraction that I could use an excuse to get away. Even though it is probably the most awkward, crazy, ridiculous reason for me to get away from this little whore (it runs in the family), I will take this and run with it. I glance over my shoulder and act ecstatic to see my… _friend_. I segue from the moment. "Hey, that's my buddy over there! I'll see ya later, Isa. It was nice meeting you Relane."

I flee her disappointed look. I flee her folded arms and aggravated, wrinkled forehead. I also try to ignore the fact her antennas seemed to stiffen up, like they are pissed off too. Like that isn't the creepiest thing ever. I run over to – mother of all fucking people – _Cloud Strife_ and hesitated before placing a hand on his shoulder. He sharply turns around, mako-blue eyes startled.

"Axel, correct?" he says, brushing my hand from his shoulder, turning around to face me.

"Yes!" I nearly shriek in relief. I don't know why I'm so relieved to be around this guy I nearly killed, but I'm so happy to see him right now. "Cloud, Mr. Strife, hi; you have no idea how relieved I am to see you."

Cloud peaks a pale blonde brow. "You're… _happy_ to see me? Didn't I just meet you yesterday?" he asks.

I nod vigorously. "Yeah, but… You seem like an interesting enough guy and…" I give up on my bullshit excuses and give him the most pleading, adorable puppy dog eyes I can. (But I probably look like I'm trying to seduce the poor guy.) "Okay, so my gay-ass blue haired friend Isa just introduced me to his sister and she is the _craziest_ chick I have ever met and I _really_ don't want to deal with her so I'm trying to escape. Do you mind?"

Cloud's horizontal mouth has slid into a smirk by now. His whirlpool eyes twinkle in what might be happiness. His fluffy, defiant blonde hair flops tiredly. I notice he has dark bags under his eyes, much like mine. Wonder when the last time he slept was. Probably four days ago.

And I killed this guy's family?

What the fuck is wrong with me?

His parents must've been gorgeous, though.

"I don't mind at all. Would you like to take refuge in a quieter room?" he offers, nodding toward the stairs, smiling with more than his mouth.

Guilt pisses in my eye socket with its nasty AIDS virus. It burns. It stings. I hate myself more than I did a couple minutes ago. I killed this fucking… this fucking _great_ guy's family. If I wasn't the most fucked up little kid, I don't know who is. I deserve to burn in hell. God, do I hope I burn in hell! I hope I rot and scar and scald and beg for mercy and never receive it because _that_ is what I deserve.

I still accomplish a forced smile and follow his lead to a nearby room, guilt shadowing me, nipping at my heels, biting seductively at my neck, and sensually tracing my spine. I hold in disturbed shivers of horror and allow the door to close behind me.

* * *

Yeah. Chapter three. This story has some _serious_ potential! I'm liking where this is going! Hoo-effing-rah! Review! I like reviews!  
They make me feel sex-ayyyyy!  
Like I mentioned in Heartless today, I have a booked weekend and will hopefully update (probably update...) Monday! Be content! Be happy!  
Because things are about to take a turn for some serious shit, man!


	4. Straitjacket

**Straitjacket**

Cloud leans back against the large bed's headboard. I feel surprisingly conservative and unnerved around him. He's a very unobtrusive guy from what I have seen. Maybe losing your parents does that to you? Nah, that can't be it; I was perfectly fine after losing mine.

Yep…I've been perfectly fine…

"So Cloud…" I begin shakily, quickly adding, "I mean… I can call you Cloud, right?"

I'm losing my balls right here in front of the person I nearly killed. He should be dead. And I am scared shitless of him. I don't want him to know, so I try to keep it casual by seating myself next to him in a… comfortable gesture.

Cloud shrugs. "It _is_ my name. I don't see why not. Why, is something wrong with calling me _Cloud_?"

I elect not to tell him his first name makes him sound gay, but his last name is boss. I elect not to tell him that his name parting from my lips makes me want to kill myself. I elect not to tell him that I'm going to go home tonight and burn shit something awful.

"Nope, not at all bro. I was just wondering… How did you take it when they died?" I ask cautiously, folding my arms behind my head and lying down next to him on the bed. He's still sitting up and looks down at me.

Cloud sighs deeply and tilts his head back to stare at the ceiling, concluding that it is far more comfortable to be laying the same way I am and copies me. His eyes glaze over. I take it the thoughts are stirring up in his mind. I never did know if he was there the night of the fire.

"At first I was really depressed. I had not been there the night of the fire; I was over my friend Zack's house. I found about it the next morning." He presses his lips together. "I can hardly remember the next year. People tell me I never said a single word and it scared them to death. Some doctors thought I would never talk again. I think _I_ thought I could never say a worthwhile word again. One day Zack completely pulled me out of it though… Somehow he managed to make me so annoyed that I yelled right in his face. He was completely content with that reaction, too." He smiles at the fondness of the memory.

My heart sinks low into my stomach. I am such a bastard.

"Eventually Zack moved away and I went back to not talking to anyone until my cousin came back from a summer at boarding school to live with my aunt, uncle, and me," Cloud explains. He snaps his fingers and smiles. "You met him, right?"

My eyebrows shoot up. "I met your cousin?" Funky—I didn't even know he had a cousin. A bass-heavy song comes on downstairs. I can feel it pounding through the floor. I think these kids don't know anything about a real party. (That's coming from me, an eighteen year-old pyromaniac.)

"You met Roxas, didn't you?" Cloud asks me, turning his head to look at me. I see him eyes, sparkling blue eyes hidden for a disappointingly long half-second.

Roxas… Oh damn! I have to meet him later at the nut house. Damn it. I knew I forgot something. And—wait… what?

The most breathtaking person I have ever seen in my entire life is related to Cloud Strife? God, just when I start to think I love you, you make me hate you all over again. You are some twisted masochist, aren't you, buddy? No. You enjoy _my_ pain. You're like a rapist! You enjoy hearing me scream for mercy, make me think I get some, then dump more crap on me. I thought it was bad that Roxas and Cloud _knew_ each other, but they have to be _related_? That is not even cool. That is not even funny as a twisted joke!

I am going to go home and burn a chipmunk tonight. No lie.

I stutter as I try to affirm that yes, I did meet Roxas. I avoid mentioning the fact he shoved his tongue down my throat, but I mention we met and really hit it off.

"That's good to hear. Roxas never gets along with very many people. He prefers to recluse and not see people. Poor boy has a lot behind him that he refuses to talk about," Cloud's voice trails off. I realize he is falling asleep; his eyes cannot decide whether to stay open or close, but the latter argument is winning.

I sit up and shake his shoulder. "Yo Cloud; man, get up." His eyes shoot open. I think I will hate myself immensely for this later—perhaps even more than I do right now—but I sigh deeply and shove myself off of the bed and walk around to his side. I offer him my shoulder. "Man, let me give you a ride home. You look beat."

Cloud tries to shake his head. It is extremely unconvincing. "I'm fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine," he says (also very unconvincingly) with a long yawn. I groan. Why's he have to be so difficult? He's as stubborn as the rope was when I tried to light his house afire.

Bad visual…

I grab his right arm and wrap it around my neck, hoist him up by the waist. I get him on his feet _finally_ and he leans his head on my shoulder. I purposely jolt so he snaps into temporary alertness. "What's your address?"

He mutters rapidly, "6107 Normandie Boulevard, right off of I-12, building C apartment 64. Roxas should answer the door." I mean, he _spitfires_ that. Somehow I catch it all and luckily for him I know exactly where that is since I've been living in the god damn area since birth.

I hike Cloud up on my shoulder because he's slipping off. Somewhere deep down I am seething at myself for even considering doing this, but is it wrong to want to attempt making amends for what you have done? Because I'm so busy holding up a half-dead blonde on my shoulder (who is surprisingly light, by the way) I cannot knock. So I just kick the door one time hard enough that I actually chipped it. Oops. I'll pay him for that later.

About forty seconds later, a familiar blonde- whose hair is looking wilder than the last time I saw him, eyes bluer, face with that _adorable_ just-woke-up look –opens the door. He yelps and slams the door shut.

_You're cool,_ my mind mumbles sarcastically.

The door opens again. I notice Roxas' clothes have been straightened out a bit. His eyes look brighter. So he closed it just so he could look a little better? He's cute.

"Um… Hi," I greet awkwardly, stammering a little. What's wrong with me? Why am I going so out of character? God damn it; Isa would never let me live this down.

"Hey," Roxas says, his sparkling ocean blue eyes meeting lucid emeralds I call mine.

In my mind I shake my head and crack a smile. "I think this is yours," I note, referring to the lighter blonde sleeping on my shoulder.

Roxas sighs upon sight of Cloud and scratches his head. He steps out of the doorway and motions for me to just bring him in. Upon stepping in, I'm immediately impressed with the edgy atmosphere their apartment creates. I set Cloud down on what looks like a very comfortable couch. "Where'd you even find him?" Roxas asks, leaning against the wall.

I turn to him coolly. "A party, actually; he helped me get out of a pretty tough spot."

Roxas appears puzzled in the cutest way I think I've ever seen. Those eyes… they just pierce right into me. They stab my shirt, pin me to a wall, and hold me down so I know I cannot go anywhere without this lovely angel's permission. That doesn't even sound bad. In fact, I like that idea. I like it a lot. Maybe I should stick around this kid. I'd like to learn how he keeps his hair like that. I've been so hot lately my red mop is clingy with the back of my neck.

The awe-inspiring boy before me allows his perfect lips to part in thought. "You found _this_ Cloud at a party?" I shove my hands in my pockets and nod. Roxas sighs. "He tries so hard." I raise an eyebrow like, _what_? The blonde smiles sadly. "When I met him, he hardly spoke a word. I always try to expose him to my world, little by little. If you can't tell, he's not the partying type."

I snort. _There's an understatement_.

"Anyway, thanks for bringing him back here." He thanks me in this tiny voice that makes him sound so… innocent. I wonder if this is the same assertive Roxas that shoved me against a wall and almost had his way with me. Is it? I have a hard time imagining him having a twin or a clone. Or what if he is an alien? That would be f-ed. I would be so confused.

"No problem, Roxas."

His face turns bright red. I chuckle to myself. _He's just so fucking cute. _"You really remembered my name?" he asks, obviously startled.

I blink. "Why would I not? It's not like you shoved me against a wall and made out with me or anything." He blushes harder, but laughs a little. I beam at this. "People tend to remember those things."

"I'll keep that in mind next time I feel like getting your attention," he tells me. _There's a next time?_ I accidentally release a low, deep, malicious growl. Roxas notices and smirks. "I think you should be going now."

I pout. "I'm supposed to meet you in eight hours anyway; why bother sending me home?"

Roxas hangs his head, but I catch his lips twitching into a bemused yet fearless smile. "Both of us need to sleep at some point."

I beam. Kinky thoughts dance in my head, but he doesn't need to know that. I make sure I'm standing directly in front of him and dangerously close with one hand pinned next to his head, trapping him, before I say anything. "So why don't I just sleep with you tonight?" I press my other hand to his stomach, carefully slipping up his baggy white shirt.

The way he holds his own stuns me. His blush is gone. His eyes have been charred and darkened dangerously. He lightly grasps my hand down and pushes it the opposite direction—toward his boxers that I now realize are slung low on his thin hips. (Not as thin as mine, but close.) God, I know we have a rollercoaster relationship, but right now?

I worship you.

"Who's sleeping tonight?" I ask the cornered blonde mischievously, raising an eyebrow. The evil grin that crosses his lips suffices for an answer _just fine_. Man I love this kid right now.

…Love?

Nah. That shit is so far beyond me. I guess random moments where lust reigns will just have to act as love for me for the rest of my life.

x

"You did _what_?" my personal therapist-bitch Zexion screeches at me, slamming his book down on the pool's deck. "Axel, I cannot believe you would do something so… so… _disturbing_!"

I glare. "He's not disturbing. Don't judge just 'cause you can't get any." I lean back in the floating chair's light blue netting and toy with the washing tag on the rim.

Zexion throws a laminated sheet of paper at me. It doesn't go very far, and he actually gets it stuck on the rim of the pool. I laugh at him. He glowers. He has a really nasty look on his face; more nasty than usual maybe. If he could get laid he wouldn't act like he has a stick up his ass. Wait… if he got laid he'd have someone's stick up his ass. Maybe he _shouldn't_ get laid…

But it _is_ fucking great.

"Axel you just met the kid! What in hell's name were you thinking? Oh that's right, you weren't thinking _anything_ because you don't have a brain. You little shit! Seriously, why would _anyone_ risk getting an STD from a two-foot whore when they A- just met them and B- killed their cousin's parents?"

I make sure my glare bores holes in his head. "Do you always have to bring that up, asshole?"

"I'm just saying, Axel; it might be best if you watch yourself with this… this 'Roxas' person you've come to acquaint yourself with. It could be dangerous," Zexion blandly tries to warn me that I am pretty much a hazard to myself.

"Lighting shit on fire is dangerous, but you don't see me bitchin," I remind him, leaping out of the floating chair and swimming over to the random sheet of paper that was an attempt at making me regret my words. Too bad he has no sense of self preservation and when I pick up the paper, I glance over it. "Zex, I didn't know you write poetry!"

His visible eye shoots open. He coolly demands that I should, "give him the paper, bastard." I comply, but think it's cute that he does something other than read and agitate me purposefully.

I scratch my head, walk over to the ladder, and climb out of the pool. Zexion scoots away from me, trying not to get wet. I mess up his hair. He punches me in the leg. I smirk and drop the paper in his lap. I slink to my towel and wrap it around my waist. Atop the railing which my towel had hung on is my EAP lighter. I find myself staring at its shiny surface. I have the sudden urge to light shit on fire. I snatch the lighter and squeeze it tightly in my palm. I ask Zexion if there's any wildlife around here.

"There are probably some squirrels around here. Why do you ask?" he inquires suspiciously. My malicious smirk should do all the talking for me. I turn to look at him, purely for the purpose of him seeing me looking diabolical. "Axel, you wouldn't." I raise an eyebrow. "Axel! Stop being inane. You lowlife twit!"

I drop my towel, exposing my simple black swim shorts to the cool air. I rub my damp, matted hair. Then I casually exit the deck, flicking my lighter while walking.

"Axel!"

I make sure my steps are quiet once I notice a squirrel sitting in the grass, munching on an acorn. My eyes gleam. I know they do. I can feel it. My body wells up in excitement. I keep the top off my old school lighter and sneak silently closer, every barefoot step cutting my feet with twigs and weeds alike. I hate Zexion's backyard sometimes. This is one of those times. When I am about _oh let's say_ four feet away (impressive that I got that close to the damn thing in the first place) I flip the switch on my lighter. A small, warm flame manifests before my eyes. I crouch down to my knees, getting as close to squirrel-level as possible. I inhale deeply, then blow on the flame forcefully. It explodes.

The fire reaches out like a mechanical hand and grips the small brown woodland creature. It ignites immediately. Its fur burns off. Its skin burns. I laugh while it squirms, writhing in pain, rolling around in the grass and catching that afire as well. The squirrel is choking to death on the little puffs of smoke emitting from said flames. I cough once, but nothing major. My eyes burn a little, but I mind not.

Finally, the squirrel stops burning. It lies dead on the ground amidst flames, still burning. It's an invigorating sight. I want to laugh. I want to roar with laughter. I _could_ roar with laughter. It's dead now. It's in a better place.

Suddenly, the fires are doused before they can amount to much more than a bonfire. Zexion has come over and dumped water on it. He glares at me with a glare so nasty it could have ended World War II. I innocently snap my lighter shut and shove it in my pocket. Another day's work is done, right?

That stupid squirrel is in a better place now. I'm in a better mood now.

It's a win-win situation.

* * *

Yes, I just killed a squirrel. How do ya like me now, bitches? Aaahahahaha. This was an interesting, twisted, choppy chapter to write. I know it skips around a wee bit, but learn to live with it. This story needs that because it's part of the Axel-Experience. Oh, my friend and I decided that if we were in I would be Axel because I _would_ enjoy something as evil as lighting a squirrel on fire for the fuck of it. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the new insight on Axey's relationship with Cloud that is forming. I know things are going weird with Roxas right now, but I have a plan. This is literally a part of that plan. It will work. IT WILL WORK.

Reviews are lovely... just sayin'. So review it, fave it, alert it, whatever the hell you wanna do with it. I don't care either way, but it's nice knowing that people are enjoying your work.  
Even if you kill squirrels.


	5. Just Dandy

**Just Dandy**

Damn it.

I realize too late that I took another life. I mean, it was just a squirrel, but that squirrel had a full, long life a head of it just as any other squirrel does. Also, I scared the life out of Zexion which is, for the record, _not cool_.

God effing damn it.

I stare at my ceiling alone, wrinkled sheets wrapped around my lanky body, eyes dead as ever. It's hot in here and I'm sweating. In my mind I'm freezing. I'm pretending I'm cold. I don't want to take the sheets off. I don't want to turn the fan on. I just want to stare at my ceiling blankly until I figure myself out.

Yet countless nights and morns of staring at the same rigid off-white ceiling has never gotten me any closer to figuring said self out.

What a waste of a perfectly good epiphany-inducing ceiling; the only man that cannot bring himself to have a change of heart is the one living under the clouds of doubt rolling along, magnetically attached to the walls, swirling through the room like a tornado. They fog up my mind, filling me with regret—that regret which I wake up every morning to and sleep to at every night. That regret is that which I will have for the rest of my life, all because I recklessly killed Sephiroth and Aerith Strife. Cloud was supposed to die, too. Cloud _could _have died. Cloud _should_ have died, but no. I would be perfectly content had he been home that night. Had he been home that night, his life would have been stolen from him as I stole mine from myself the night I burned my birth certificate. I don't even exist. This body exists. This persona exists. Everything about me exists except… me.

I'm the odd one out—the one that doesn't belong. Why didn't someone try burning down my house? That easily could have been me! It's not that hard to do; trust me—I've done it. Fuck my life. Just please, _please_ fuck my li-.

My phone is ringing. I answer it blandly with a dead _yo_.

"Wanna come pick me up?" Roxas' voice virtually demands. Boy sounds antsy; needy. Okay, who am I to deny a cry for help- especially if it's coming from this kid. Because now I'm a fucking tool; I must be as bad as Isa by now. Lord, please help me.

"Sure. Where and when?" I sigh, scratching my head and shoving one hand in my pocket. I look at my alarm clock on the nightstand. It's still pretty early. I mean five in the morning early. The sun has yet to peek out from behind the horizon.

"My place right now or else," he threatens. I hear rustling, assume he's getting dressed. I don't see why. He looks great without clothes on and even better when they're discarded to the floor.

"Sounds good to me; see ya soon, babe." I sniff and rub my one eye. It watered when I yawned in the middle of my sentence, dividing it into two. I hear Roxas chuckle beautifully. He _whatever_-s me and hangs up. What a bitch. I should _really_ hurt him for that this time. Tsk. If he thought last time was bad…

I walk over to my closet; grab some clean jeans that _don't_ make my legs look stick thin (even though they sling low around my hips) and a baggy white shirt that _doesn't_ make me look like I have no body fat. Shockingly enough, I still look like a tree branch. That's encouraging. No wonder Isa wants me in support groups; now he thinks I'm a goddamn anorexic bitch. And the way I've been doing my hair lately, flattening it down with my bangs pushed out of my shadowed eyes. Bags are under them. They are dead eyes. They are dead eyes that have seen too much.

Fuck.

I see dead people.

Roxas had me bring him to the reserve on the outside of town. He had me follow him through the forest, ducking under branches, avoiding poison ivy, and at one point he asked me to carry him the rest of the way, but I called him a lazy ass. He beamed at me and jumped on my back from behind me so I ended up carrying him anyway. His crotch was pressed against my back. His arms were around my neck. His face was right next to mine.

And he'd be like, "You're _so slow_, Ax! Pick up the fucking pace!" He would smack me on the ass or give me light tap (or swift kick) to the ribs. He made bruises. I know he did. But he made up for it. he would occasionally nip at the tip of my ear or kiss my neck or whisper really… fucking… kinky things.

And _I'd_ be like, "If I had enough emotion like anyone, it'd be you."

But I would never say that out loud.

So we come up to this cliff that looks over a cavern and an estuary below. It's around five forty-five. The sun is barely up. It is probably more asleep than I am and I just carried Roxas halfway through a forest. Then we sit on the farthest point in the cliff's ledge and stare out at the sunrise.

Purples, reds, and yellows are painted across the sky in swirls and waves, mingling with bright white clouds like chocolate and marshmallow in a giant S'more made of atmosphere. Mmm… S'mores. I could really go for one right now. Suddenly, interrupting my yummy thoughts, Roxas leans his head on my shoulder. I notice how much closer he had scooted to me to be able to do so. The sunrise illuminates his face beautifully, messy hair shading half of it. His twinkling eyes are droopy in contentment. I don't know what I should do. Should I… put my arm around him? Yeah. That sounds fine. I wrap my arm around his waist.

I wonder if Isa would believe me if I told him I have found serenity. I hardly believe it. Nonetheless I find myself kissing the top of the blonde boy's head and burying my face in his hair, the morning breeze bringing it closer to my face, tickling secretly sensitive skin. I inhale deeply. He smells fresh—like rain. He yawns unexpectedly and I find it weirdly cute.

"Have you ever come up here before?" he asks quietly, yawning again. I shake my head into his hair. "You're missing out."

"On seeing the same sun that rises every morning?" I ask him speculatively.

I glance down at his face to see his lips curved into a fond smile. "Nature's beauty is a privilege, not a right," he tells me. "I first came up here with Cloud after his family died." He sighs. I gulp. He blinks. I know he felt it, but I keep collected. "My mom told him we should go exploring, so we did. We ended up here. There were fireworks that night. It was one of the coolest things I've ever seen."

"So you like fireworks, huh?" I ask. Too bad he doesn't know just how much I like blowing shit up—how much I enjoy the sparks flying, the smoke swelling, the air getting heavy.

"I think they're nice. Before my uncle Seph died, he told me that he took my aunt Aerith to see fireworks when they were younger."

"…Really…"

Guilt.

"He said that was the night he knew she was the one; seeing her beneath the stars with all the colors exploding before them made him see it," Roxas recites wistfully, eyes gleaming, smile hopeful. "I've never really believed in all that _love_ stuff though, y'know? So it's hard for me to understand."

Guilt claws at me, choking me right at the throat, tearing at my hair; it yells, screams, pleads, then _forces_ itself upon me. The guilt overwhelms me. It hurts. I want to die. What have I done?

…What have I fucking done? I made my mistake four years ago. I should have learned then, but no. It hurts _now_. It hurts _here_- right in my chest where my heart is supposed to be. I think I'm going to start- no wait, I _am_ –crying. I'm crying.

I am crying.

It's not December 21, 2012.

The world's not ending, but I wish mine was.

I sniff and wipe my eyes angrily.

"Axel?" Roxas' voice snaps me out of my daze. He pulls himself and peers up into my watering eyes. "Are you okay?"

I force a small smile. "Of course; what would make you think otherwise?"

He raises an eyebrow while frowning. It's an interesting combination. I narrow my eyes, trying to question him questioning me. He sighs in easy defeat. I beam victoriously.

"Disappointed?" I ask him.

Before I know it, he's grabbed either side of my face and pulled me into a long, fiery kiss. But here's the thing: it's different from any of the other ones. It's slower… deeper… and we are not _fighting_ for dominance. No… it's more like dancing. It's cooperative. Roxas slides his hands gently down my face, then collar, and locks them together behind my neck, intent on staying put. My arms instinctively settle around his waist, holding him close to me.

Literally, my head is spinning. The rest of the world- the world outside of this moment with Roxas –does not exist. This is my world. What I would not give to live here, with him, for the rest of my life. Sadly, I don't have that liberty. I remember that when he pulls away, presses his forehead against mine.

I frown. He simply whispers, "Disappointed?" onto my face in that icy cold voice of his, devious smile planted on his face.

I kiss him on the nose. He blushes. "Nope," I assure him with a smirk.

Mortified, he jumps to his feet, wrenches himself from my grasp. He walks casually backwards toward the forest. A small smile crosses his lips. He turns and dashes off into the woods. I feel… happiness swelling up in me in one moment and the next I chase him down.

And he's like, "I'm in love with this morning!"

_And I'm like, "If I could fall in love with anything, I would want it to be you."_

* * *

Yes, it is short. I apologize. The next one will be regular length. But this his weird little limes in it so I figured, hey- why not make you guys suffer? Reviews fuel flames. Just remember that. And if you flame, then you just add to the chaos and I have nothin' wrong with that. Enjoy it; and thanks for being patient! I love you insanely!


	6. One Time Things

**One-Time Things**

Isa looks at me in complete disbelief when I tell him about my morning. His gold eyes are wide. His jaw is dropped. I could laugh my ass off, but that would be rude. Then again, since when did I care?

"Don't laugh at me, idiot. You're the laughable one right now," Isa tells me in his _holier-than-thou_ tone of voice that pisses me off. I glare at him like, _what the fuck you talking about?_ "Come on, Ax. I know you missed the earlier days of the support stuff, but you have to know how young Roxas is."

I raise an eyebrow. "He's what, sixteen? He's over the legal age of consent, ain't he?" I ask.

Isa wears an evil smirk. "He just turned fifteen a couple months ago. You're almost nineteen."

Insert a major face-palm here. "Oh. Fuck." I groan and rub my eyes, bury my face between my knees as I sit on his couch, bracing myself for the headache to come. "Please, Isa, tell me you're joking. Please tell me you're just fucking with me."

"You fucked a minor, remember? Obviously not me," he says cynically, folding his arms and sitting next to me. I almost scream, instead shivering and clutching at the back of my head. He reaches out and rubs my back. "Hey, man. Don't get discouraged. It's not your fault you don't look before you lay."

My arm automatically shoots out and punches him square in the side ribs. I hear a _crack_. Maybe I broke his rib again. This wouldn't be the first time, either. Not that Isa cares or anything; he has no life. He doesn't have to care whether or not he's missing a rib. If he can pull down 16 bottles of Jack in a single sitting he can take a fucking punch to the ribs from his pissed off best friend.

"You're an asshole, Axel," Isa breathes. He mindlessly wraps an arm around my shoulder to console me. That's a great best friend. He holds onto you, even after you punch him in the ribs.

I look at him, sad smile clinging to my cold lips. They long for that kid's kiss. They tingle at the thought of him. What is this? I don't understand… I feel weird inside when I think of Roxas. But I should have asked him before I became a child molester. Great to know I'm a felon of statutory rape.

"And you only like women," I remind him, adding the _only_ so I'm not a hypocrite.

"What's so bad about that?" he asks, appearing offended.

I laugh and lean my head on his shoulder. I pat his opposite and rub his hand that acts as if it's holding his ribs together. "You can never know the pleasure of that boy."

Isa twists his face in faux disgust. "Dude, why would I want to? I'm three years older than _you_! That'd be like…" He looks he's going to throw up and it's hilarious. I burst out laughing. "Just _nasty_; that's seven years, Ax! I'd be killed for sure!"

I slap him on the arm playfully while laughing. "Yeah, what's wrong with that? It'd be so funny!" I tell him. He smiles and punches me in the side. Then my cellphone decides to vibrate in my pocket. Isa and I stop dead in our tracks. I wriggle it out of my pocket and open it.

_New Text Message: Rock's Ass_

Isa gives me a queer look. I shake my head. "Don't ask."

"Wasn't planning on it," he assures me.

_Hey bitch. You're giving me a ride to that stupid group thing today. _

Isa laughs. "So you're his bitch?"

"Shut up, whore," I command. _My_ bitch obeys.

I text Roxas back with, _Can't you drive yourself today? _I lean back on Isa's couch, waiting patiently for a response. Isa and I continuously elbow each other.

_Cloud took my Miata. Drive me or be raped._

I blink in impression. A Miata is a nice car. He's fifteen and has one of those? Damn. Cool kid. Maybe he should be driving me around. On second thought, that's pretty pathetic.

_Good luck with that._

_I'll kick your ass, Axel. I'll take my car home. Just get me there._

I inhale deeply and shoot an inquisitive look at Isa. He shrugs like, _don't look at me_. "I can drive myself there."

_You win. _

_Good boy. I'll reward you later. ;)_

I chuckle to myself. _Ooh, kinky. ;D Watch yourself or I'll have to take you up on that._

_I want you._

Isa's eyes bulge out of his head. He cracks up and slaps his knee. "Dude, that's great! You're getting laid _again_!" I smirk and hit him upside the head. He winces. Then I get another text from Roxas.

_**I want you to. Sorry. ;P_

Now Isa's laughing even harder. He's a dumbass. Just throwing that out there, but he is.

_Damn,_ I type,_ and I thought I was gonna get lucky._

_You feelin' lucky, punk? Well? Do ya?_

_Obscure movie reference! But yeah, I do._

_So it shall be. See ya soon._

_Yep._

"I'll never understand how you can text complete sentences so quickly," Isa drawls. He continues with, "I'll never understand how you can text complete sentences in the first place. If someone filled my inbox with that shit, I'd be all… Uh…" he pauses. "That's textual harassment, I don't need to explain."

I chide him for being stupid. "That is possibly _the_ dumbest thing I've heard you say today."

"You love it!" he yells in my face before jumping to his fate. Recollecting too late that he might've cracked a rib, he grabs his side. I rush to his aid, cellphone falling to the floor as I help Isa support himself. Poor Isa. He always seems to end up my victim of anything that isn't sexual frustration.

The facilitator girl of our support group wears a frazzled, worried expression upon seeing the four of us sitting together. From the left of the girl it's Cloud, Roxas, me, Isa, the little black haired girl from last time whose name is Xion, the mullet-mohawk blonde guy better known as Demyx, and the girl that looks like a slut I did once that turned out to be a guy named Marluxia. It's weird; I could've sworn his hair was pink the last time I saw him. He's a brunette now. It works for him, actually. Good for him. He looked gay before.

I'm sitting with one foot on my chair, knee bent, and other leg straight out, foot tapping at the air along to some guitar for a random song. I think it's really the drums to Earthquake by Family Force 5. (They fucking rule.) My one hand is tapping at my bent knee anxiously, wanting this to be over. The other hand is held by Roxas. It was his idea. He just reached over and grabbed it boldly. After that, the platinum-blonde girl running this- who I now notice wears a nametag labeled with the name_ Bethany_ –started looking nervous.

Today we have a little assignment. We have to pair up with someone completely random of Bethany's choice and get in a debate about a topic assigned by her. Apparently this is supposed to healthily get rid of frustrations.

'Scuse me, Beth darling; did you know I burn things?

Just wondering.

I get kind of upset when she doesn't pair me up with anyone I know. I get stuck with Demyx. But it's not necessarily a _get stuck with_ kind of thing. It's more of an awkward way to meet each other since I started going to these things on the fifth session. This is the group's sixth one, so I'm not that behind, but behind enough.

"Hi," I greet him peculiarly. I notice his eyes are multiple shades of blue. Around the pupil he has light, almost white, blue eyes. Then around the rim it is the color of the ocean. The irises swirl in fear. "So what do you want to argue about?"

Demyx folds his arms and nonchalantly smirks. His face has turned dark, eyebrows evil. I open my mouth to ask him what's up, but he cuts me off with a single finger held in the air before me. I blink. "How about your reasoning behind killing the Strife family?" he suggests with a pleasant voice that hides a deadly undertone.

"…What are you talking about?" I ask, thanking God for my mastery of keeping composure. I raise an eyebrow and narrow my eyes suspiciously. What does he know about this? How does he know I did it? Or is he just bluffing? Damn. I don't know. I hate not knowing.

The blonde's smirk becomes a playful grin. "Let's play a game. I'm going to ask you questions about what you did to them and you're going to give me answers or else I'm going to go over there and tell your little boy toy and his cousin."

I glare intensely. If I had a switch, it would be flicked to _kill_ right now. I force myself to scoot my chair closer to Demyx uncomfortably. "What do you want from me?" I ask. "How do you know what I did?"

He laughs. "Questions, questions; you ask too much of me, Axel. I just want to know how you did it."

My brow furrows. "I burned the house down," I whisper agitatedly. "Now what do you really want?"

"I want the _details_. It'd be nice to know how the second-greatest killer in this region did his largest project," he states simply, continuing to piss me off.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Why do you want to know in the first place?" I huff. I run a hand back through my hair.

"Because," he elaborates, "you work just like your father. Most people are just too ignorant to realize that _Reno Nowaki_ had a son. Sure, no records were ever found of him." Demyx pauses and taps his chin almost speculatively, smirk creeping across his lips once more. "It's interesting, though, how said son is sitting right in front of me. And your mother," he says before pausing with a dark laugh. I twitch.

_He has no right to mention her to me. _"What about my mother?" I spit.

"Nice to know that one of them made it out of there alive," the boy says with a shrug.

My left eye twitches.

_What?_

"I heard about her being released. I felt justice had been served. After all, she was only trying to protect her _son_. But look where he is—in a _far_ more dangerous situation than his father is right now." After a couple seconds he adds, "That's taking into consideration the fact I could close your world right now."

_…What?_

As if an automatic reaction, I feel my fist fly at Demyx's face. Instead of hitting him square in the jaw like I expect to, a hand jumps out to stop mine. It's familiar. It's one of the few that can actually stop me and my rampages. I glance up to see Isa's gold eyes somber and sad. He shakes his head slowly, blue locks falling on and off of his shoulders. Like telepathy, I hear him say _it's not worth it_.

I nod in acknowledgement and reluctantly drop my fist. I rise to my feet, my leer never leaving Demyx's smug face. I mutter to Isa, "I'm leaving."

"Axel," he says quietly, reaching out and rubbing my shoulder. "You want me to drive?"

I shake my head and mildly tell him, "I'm going alone." Oh, he has no idea just how alone I'm about to go. I shrug off his hand and return his pat on the shoulder. "I'll see you soon." Without another word I turn to walk out the door. I don't look back. I regret nothing.

I whip my cell out of my pocket upon vibration.

_New Text Message: Saix_

_Don't do anything stupid, Axel_.

Wow. That was the first text I've ever gotten from Isa that was a complete sentence. He must be serious. Can't blame him—I just walked out after attempting to flip a shit on a seemingly-innocent blonde kid, but he had it coming to him. That fist deserved to be in his face.

I ignore the text, though, and skim through my contacts disappointedly. I notice I've erased the one person I desperately need to contact right now. I run down the stairs, jump in my car, and speed in the direction of my flat. I decide I'll look it up once I get home.

x

I get on my computer and Google him. _Ha._ I scoff. _He never changes._ I throw more clothes into my suitcase as I button-mash his number into my phone. I hit the large green _call_ button as I hunt down my toothbrush and a spare pair of shoes to shove in my luggage.

After a ridiculous ringback playing instead of the norm (Let's Get Outta Here by Madina Lake), he finally answers. "Hello?" he greets in his comforting, familiar raspy voice.

"Hey. I'm calling in a favor," I warn him. He chuckles. "What's so funny?"

"You're getting impulsive, kiddo," he informs me.

I smile. "And you're getting old. What are you doing in New Jersey, Uncle Xigbar?" I secretly love my uncle's alias. For the record, he's my father's brother. He knows what I've done. He knows everything my father did. He loves me anyway. This is good because I don't need to be a Nowaki-family reject.

"Trying to live out my life casually, but it looks like that's going to be difficult now that you're 'calling in a favor'. I take it that means you want to come live with me at last?" he asks, recollecting the offer he made a couple years ago.

"You know it," I sigh. He pretends to groan. "Don't bitch, Xigby," I order. I even boss around people older than me. Damn. I'm too cocky for my own good. Maybe Demyx should have threw the punch instead of the other way around.

"Fucking hate that name," Xigbar reminds me politely.

"I need you, man. I have to cover my tracks here. All I need is a place to stay temporarily while I sort things out." I scratch my head with my free hand, standing frozen in the middle of my torn-apart, half-empty room.

"You're still friends with that Isa boy aren't you?"

"Yes."

"So what happened? You couldn't get a girlfriend? You got a girlfriend and now she's a crazy ex?" He continues throwing random scenarios at me for about three and a half minutes.

I accidentally blurt, "I got a boyfriend, okay," admitting indirectly that I like men. But my uncle always knew that I would be like him—taking both genders one day.

"Is it Isa? He was just up here last weekend. It was weird seeing him so grown up. I remember him being smaller than you. He showed me a picture of you two. You're a twig, kiddo!"

"Call me kiddo one more time and I call you Xigby for the rest of my life," I threaten. I hear my uncle laugh. Then I wonder aloud, "Why was Isa up there? Never mind. I have more than one friend and my boyfriend is not Isa."

"Weird," he drawls awkwardly.

"What, you thought I'd date my best friend?"

"As if! I just didn't think you could make friends," he says fondly, laughing as he does so. I find myself with a small smile on my face. "What are their names?"

I hear a knock on my door. That's weird; the only person who would be here is Isa and he had work after support group today. "We can talk when I get out there."

"Damn it," he snaps. I can hear barking in the background. "Oh. There's my door. What perfect timing that was, huh?"

"Yep it was." The knocking on the door gets louder. I head out into the living room and peek through the peephole of my door.

_Oh shit._

"Hey kid. One more thing before I go," Xigbar commands my attention. I nod as if he can see me, but I think he hears it just fine. "I'll get you plane tickets out here and wire them to you, alright?"

I sigh. There he goes being protective-uncle on me like he used to. "If I can burn a house down I can buy plane tickets. I can handle myself. Commit it to memory."

"This is just your dear-old uncle doing you a favor, Ax. Appreciate it," he tells me. I can hear him smiling. I feel memories of him ruffling my hair when I was a little kid.

I assure him that I appreciate his offer then hang up the phone and nervously stand face to face with my door. _He_ is still standing right outside. Fuck. Why can't he go away?

"Axel," he calls somewhat gently. "I know you're in there. Open the door."

I find myself turning the knob and pulling it open.

* * *

Ladies and... uh... Gentlemen? (If guys even read this...) Yo vivo escribir (whatever 'post' is in spanish) siete en dias tres. So I'll post in either two or three days. Depends on how long this coming chapter takes. This was one of my least favorite to write and it's almost 3,000 words. I'm trying to stick to about 2,000. Hopefully you enjoy this. Btw! Chapter is dedicated to Miss Magenta for being so kind :3 Not that all of you aren't absolute dolls. I love you all, still. You'd think with 1,000 views we'd have about two hundred a chapter or something, but at least people are readng this, right? ^_^' REVIEW. REVIIIIIEW. It's one button. Click it. Say hi. Say this story sucks. Just review. It makes my day a little bit brighter and my mood a hell-of-a-lot better. Continue to enjoy and have a BAMF weekend!


	7. Almost Lovers

**Almost Lovers**

I find myself turning the knob and pulling it open. Roxas has one arm hanging limply at his side. His opposite hand is holding the hanging hand's forearm. His hair is drenched and plastered to all sides of his head. Strange that I didn't notice it raining; my walls are paper thin. I should've been able to hear it. Xigbar does talk sort-of loudly, though. Anyway, Roxas is standing at my door completely drenched. His eyes are averted and I can't tell if they're wet from tears or from rain. I hear a crack of thunder and wince privately. It might be the rain. I hold the door all the way open and motion for him to come in.

He reluctantly steps in and sharply turns on his heel when I close the door behind him.

"When are you leaving?" he asks me, rubbing his arm shyly. Did you know this is the most vulnerable I've ever seen him? It's pretty sad. "I heard you talking about plane tickets. Where are you going?"

I scratch my head uncomfortably, not wanting to explain this at all. If I do, I'll have to tell him what I did to the Strife family and that is something I absolutely _refuse_ to tell him myself. "I'm… I'm being forced to leave. I've been evicted for bitching at my landlord too much," I lie smoothly.

_The only person making me leave is me. _

"Why? You don't even have enough to bitch about. This place is fine," Roxas argues. "Can't you stay with Isa or Cloud and me?"

"No. I already made arrangements with family," I half-lie. _It's not like I couldn't cancel._

Crying whirlpools stare up at me helplessly. "You have to be joking…"

"No, I'm really not." I continue this charade, my true thoughts speaking silently after me. _Of course I'm kidding, Rox!_

"Fine," he mutters. "Then go. Never come back. See if I care." _Please don't leave me. I'll miss you._

"Maybe I will." _I'll miss you too, but… This is for the best._

"Burn in hell, Axel!" he screams at me. _The best for you, maybe. Promise to come back to me._

"I'll see you there, kid." _I promise I'll come back to you._

"Fuck you." _Before you leave, can we have one more night?_

"Right back at'cha." _Whatever you want, Roxas._

"Bastard!" _I… I think I love you._

"Tight-ass twerp!" _I think I can't love._

"Asshole." _Way to ruin the moment. _

"Pussy." _I have that effect. But seriously, if I could love I think I'd love you too._

"You don't even deserve me, you son of a bitch!" _And in that case I would give myself to you forever._

"I don't need your shit!" _And I would enjoy it._

A starburst of anger shoots through me. I shove him against a wall with a _slam_ and pin him by his wrists. I press my forehead against his dominantly, eyes set course on making him understand me. He can't be so ignorant that he doesn't know what I really feel. I know I could hear the true conversation. …Couldn't he?

He has to know the truth.

I blink when he suddenly sobs and buries his head in my chest, nuzzling in my baggy black and red sweatshirt. "Don't leave Axel. I've lost so much in life. I don't need to lose you, too."

I purse my lips curiously at this. He doesn't want to lose me… Someone actually… cares for me? Someone _wants_ me? I've never felt that way before. I've never thought anyone even gave a shit, but… "What am I to you?" I ask.

He stops writhing in my grasp and attempting an escape when I ask him. "What do you mean?" he inquires.

"I'm serious," I assure him. "What am I to you? Am I a friend? Am I a fuck buddy, friend with benefits, tool, what? What am I to you, Roxas?"

And I wonder if he can hear how distressed I am. I wonder if he can hear me going crazy over this in my mind. I'm suffering inside because that stupid asshole Demyx is going to tell him what I did to Cloud's family. I'm suffering because of what I did.

So I'm hurting myself now, aye?

Fuck masochism.

"I don't know…" he whispers, demeanor changing from upset to more upset and his face paling. "I don't know what you are to me."

I knew he was fucking stupid.

"So why the hell would you need me to stay?" I exasperate, glaring into his eyes. He tries to look away, but I don't allow him to. I drop one of his wrists and cup his chin. "Why would you even need me at all, Roxas? Shit. Why would you even _want_ me? Are you _stupid_?"

Roxas glares at me. "I'm not fucking stupid. You're the idiot here! I don't want you to leave. If you're fucking shocked that someone wants you than maybe you shouldn't fucking leave them you stupid fucking fucker!"

"How many times are you going to say _fuck_ before you realize it lost its effect?" I ask him, slamming my hand over his mouth. He blinks in shock after spaz-attacking for the past God-knows-how-many seconds. "I swear you are so insane it's ridiculous. Are you a schizophrenic, Rox? Because that's the kind of thing you tell someone before you fuck three times." His face turns bright red. "So calmly, please, tell me what I am to you. Honestly."

I remove my hand from his mouth cautiously. Abruptly he starts swearing at me again. I groan in impatience. _I really don't have time for this._

On the contrary, I have all the time in the world. I grab both sides of his face and capture the smaller boy's mouth with my own fiercely. He squeals, trying to push me off. Needless to say, I decline the idea of losing to him. I make sure he is pressed firmly against the wall by shoving my left leg between his thighs, pressing hard against his… well… you know. He moans loosely, not holding back at all, much to my pleasure. With much struggle, though, he manages to pull back. I frown; he holds me off so he can speak. That I accept.

"You want to know what you are to me?" he asks. _Yes_. I nod fervently. Finally I get my answer. He shoves me ferociously off of him. I stumble back a couple feet in startled recoil. "You're coming with me," he informs me, grabbing my hand and dragging me out of my apartment. He slams the door behind me and has me trailing mere steps behind him.

_Another sudden mood swing, huh? Who knew having this kid around would be so interesting. _

When he looks over his shoulder and smiles sadly at me, the after-rain sun making his hair glisten and eyes twinkle, my heart jumps. His smile illuminates the darkest recesses of my mind. For one brief moment I contemplate staying, knowing all too well my life would be ruined.

Poor Roxas has no idea that that moment will never happen again. He opens the passenger door of his Miata (which really fucking exists!) and then walks around to the other side. He speeds out of the lot and down the street.

x

He had me scale a four-story building with him.

He had me risk my life to get to the roof when we easily could've walked up stairs then the fire escape.

But no—my dear, sweet little Roxas wanted me climbing a wet ladder up the south side of a ginormous building with an dark empty alleyway beneath us.

The things I do for this kid nowadays…

So when we get to the top, we sit near the edge, looking out at the raving city beneath us, filled with life and movement. People look like ants. Ants look like amoebas. Amoebas don't look like anything because we cannot see them. The sun is setting early tonight, I notice. Roxas' face is flushed. He looks like he has something on his mind. I want to ask him what it is.

"I used to come up here with my brother, you know," he suddenly tells me, distantly looking out at the colorful horizon.

I turn to look at him. His hair is finally drying out. "You have a brother?"

"I _had_ a brother," he corrects sadly.

I hang my head, unsure of how to respond. "What happened to him?"

"The same thing that happened to Cloud's parents," he says. I gulp. _If I killed Roxas' brother too, I swear to you, God that I will jump off this fucking building right now_. "He accidentally set himself on fire when he was ten. No one could save him. When we were younger our parents would let us roam the streets. We ended up here a lot." He chuckles amusedly. "He would somehow always materialize sea-salt ice cream out of thin air. I had no idea how he did it. It was part of his magical persona."

I see the emptiness in his gaze and wonder if he actually misses his brother as much as it seems. "At least you have memories of him," I say weakly, trying to make a positive out of a negative. "Not everyone gets those memories."

"No," he agrees with a forced smile. "I guess not." He sighs. "I guess I don't want you to leave because I already…" he trails off.

"What about already?" I press, curious about what he meant to say.

"I used to have this girlfriend," he begins. I snort at that involuntarily. Chicks are something else alright; especially since this kid is only fifteen. It couldn't have been that serious. Roxas looks confused as he continues. "She was a lot like you. She was overconfident and a sex-fiend and really quirky and a redhead." So he's always had a thing for redheads, huh? "Then one day I came home from school to find a note on my pillow. We had been together since the beginning of middle school and then she just dumped me near the end of freshman year. We've only been broken up a month and a half." He tilts his head and turns to look at me. "At least I think so. Time goes by so differently with you around that I have a hard time keeping track."

I smile at him. _I'm flattered._

"I know it's only been… what… a week since I met you?"

I nod. "Yes, just about a week now."

He laughs, apparently shamefully at himself. I wonder why before he has a chance to explain. He turns to me and beams. "It feels like I've known you for ages. Maybe even my whole life."

I stifle a cough, trying not to give away what he might now if he really had known me his whole life. "Well, maybe not your whole life, but a couple years for sure," I recommend in opposition to his theory.

"Yeah, that works. But it's just…" He scratches his head adorably. "I don't want you to go. I don't think I'm in love with you or anything stupid like that right now, but… the more I'm around you, the more I want you around."

_Which is exactly why I should leave…_

"Which is exactly why you shouldn't leave," he tells me. My eyebrows shoot up. "You shouldn't go anywhere yet because you don't know where things could pan out here. And I'd miss you a real fucking lot."

Do I look sad right now?

My heart is full of regret. The things I do to people hurt them- hurt me, even. All I ever do is hurt people. I want to get away from this and start over. None of this would be a problem if Isa hadn't dragged me to church one damn time. Wait. I'm not going to blame Isa for this; it would not be fair. In the end, I started this.

I find myself enfolding Roxas in my arms. I bury my face in the crook of his neck and inhale his scent. Good Lord, does he smell fantastic. He slowly returns the embrace and kisses my neck. He whispers, "I don't want to lose you."

And it's weird because between thoughts of disgrace and shame shrieking at me, I hear him add something else to his sentence. It makes my heartbeat slow down so much I think I could die, but not in a bad way; I would die in peace.

His voice is broken and inaudible, but I hear him loud and clear. I hate myself for hearing him say it, though. I hate myself for forcing myself on him. I hate myself for being this close to him when I don't deserve it. _This _is why I have to leave, Roxas. Can you not see? Can you not see how bad I am for you? We could burn entire cities to the ground, which is exactly why… I have to go.

It's a shame. All these years of building up an impenetrable wall around me to keep people out and hide away where no one could touch me and no one could care for me; a world where I was the only one who had to care for me and no one else had to worry; I lived eighteen solid years of life and it took five days with one person to smash it all to pieces. Never has anyone torn me apart so much inside—not even my best friend. Isa could never make me hate myself this much. Isa could never make me feel so much. Isa could never be quite like Roxas. Roxas is something special. Obviously if he has me thinking so much that my head hurts more than it did when Isa tried cracking my skull open with a steel rod on my seventeenth birthday, there has to be something unique.

I could never let this go.

But I am going to because I am a selfish bastard.

Because when Roxas finds out… when _Cloud_ finds out… my life will be over. Without this feeling of feeling alive that Roxas bestows upon me, I will go back to emptiness and hopelessness. He is my little light.

_This is why I have to leave you, Roxas._

_Because I love you so much it hurts._

* * *

ZOMG! Axel has emotions! Shocker of the century. Just kidding. Ha. I'm _so_ funny. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! By the way, I'm threatening you guys this time. Six reviews or no update xD for five days. That's right. I'll make you wait until people are nice enough to review because this thing has fricken 20 alerts and over 1,200 views. (Which I'm very pleased about; thank you so much!) I just don't think it's fair, y'know? Not that I earned the respect or anything. I'm just being a pain in the neck. You know the drill.

I strongly recommed listening to Almost Lovers to this. I mean, go back and read it again to that song. It sort-of changes the mood; at least I think it does. .


	8. Six Months

**Six Months**

I stare at Xigbar's calendar. I feel his eyes boring into the side of my head, poking around in my brain. He tries this sometimes. His friend Even is far better at snooping around in someone's thoughts, but I can't blame the man for trying; I think interesting thoughts.

"How many days…" I wonder. Xigbar looks up at me from his newspaper, scratches his patched eye. I cross my arms over my chest and confusedly stare at the calendar. "How many days have I been here?" I reiterate.

"How many days are in six months?" he retorts.

Huh. I guess I've been in Jersey for longer than I thought. I do some quick mental math. "One-hundred and seventy-four days," I inform my uncle, shifting my weight onto one foot. _Shit. I didn't think I would make it this long._

In the beginning, I was constantly getting calls and texts from Roxas yelling at me, calling me worthless shit, and begging me to come back. Sometimes I would call him back, but it broke my heart. So as soon as he answered… I hung up. The second I heard his voice, so eager to hear mine with his stressed tone and tears carrying through the phone, I lost my confidence. So have I talked to him since I've left? Yeah. I went three days with no sleep so I could stay up and text him and try to work things out, but he wouldn't let me. I dream about it. I have nightmares about it. I wake up wanting to talk to him—to hear him, but the guilt I feel now is nothing compared to what I felt being around Cloud Strife.

Something weird happened to me this morning, though. Before I came downstairs for breakfast and a total of how many days I've been away from Roxas, I got the first text in six months from Isa. It was short and sweet and so like him that I couldn't help but smile. I know I have to call him today. It wouldn't be right if I didn't.

_New Test Message: Saix_

_Douchebag better txt me wen u get a chance._

"How are you feeling, Axel?" my uncle asks me, voice laced with concern.

I can't say I have been completely okay since moving here. I think I have gone a smidgen insane, give or take a few roasted chipmunks. (I know I couldn't find one before, but you'd be surprised how many chipmunks my uncle has in his backyard. He laughs and pats me on the shoulder when I ignite the little bastards.) Oh. My pyromania has gotten worse. I tried lighting myself on fire, but all I did was scar my arm… and my face. I have two teardrop shaped scars under my eyes, one under each. I feel disgusted whenever I see them, knowing the story behind them. Alas; this is my life, is it not?

My phone starts playing _Something_ by Escape The Fate in my pocket (i.e. the ringtone for my girlfriend). What, I didn't tell you I got myself a girl? I was getting pretty bored without my bitch after a while so I went out and made some friends. My girl? Her name is Namine. I met her in Trenton while on a road trip with my new pal. Who is my new pal? Well his name is Terrance. He's a pretty cool dude when you get to know him. I met him at a coffee shop when he was yelling at this dude about which is better: giving or receiving.

I pick up. "Hey Nam," I greet her. A smile graces my lips. Xigbar shakes his head at me. What the hell is his problem? "How's it going?"

"I'm doing well, thanks. Do you have any plans for today?" she asks in her sweet little voice of hers. I love having someone so small and adorable and powerless on my arm. It makes me feel strong.

_But where's the challenge?_

I don't know where the goddamn challenge is. Leave me the hell alone.

I peer over my shoulder at Xigbar and mouth him the same question that Namine asked me moments ago. He nods fervently and starts doing fucked up charades. I give him a queer look. What kind of dance is that, the drunk chicken? I raise an eyebrow then respond to Namine.

"Yeah, my uncle and I are doing some stuff today," I tell her, feigning disappointment. I honestly don't care. I like her and all, but she _always_ wants to be around me. Doesn't she know when I get tired of her?

_I know one person you never got tired of._

Will you just go the hell away already? Obviously I got tired of him if I left. I don't even miss him anymore, okay?

"Oh. Alright then. If you have some time later you should come visit me. My cousin Kairi is coming over and wants to meet you," Nam suggests mildly. Yet for some reason the very sound of her voice is irritating me. My blood is boiling. I want to hit something so hard right now.

"I have to go. I'll talk to you later."

"Okay. See you, then."

I abruptly hang up before she can even say good-bye and throw my phone at the wall with all the strength I can. I glare at my uncle. "What could possibly be _so_ damn important that I have to bail on Namine?" I yell at him, arms outstretched but fists clenched, nails digging into my palms.

"I never said you had to bail, kiddo. I just have someone more important that wants to spend time with you," Xigbar says nonchalantly, sipping at his _extremely_ strong coffee. I glare at him some more. He peaks a brow. I try to shoot holes in his head with my eyes, but it doesn't work. Xig calls, "Boy! Get in here!"

And through the sliding glass door behind the kitchen table, bursting through the curtains epically, is my best friend; my _real_ best friend. My jaw drops. Like in one of those mega chick-flicks, everything stops. A genuine smile touches my face. I think I'm going to cry, but he would never let me live it down.

"Six months," he says. "You haven't talked to me in six months, you bastard!" Isa screams, charging and ramming into me with his elbow, thus shoving me hard against the wall. We burst out laughing. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I'm sorry, man! I've missed you so much," I admit, giving him a man-to-man friend-hug. I bury my face in his hair, which I notice is mostly gone. "Dude what happened to your hair?"

"Relane bet me I didn't have the balls to cut it off," he says, returning my embrace. God it feels good to have him back. "What have you even been doing the last half-year? I've been searching for you but you never appear anywhere. At all. Ever."

"I try not to anymore. I don't want to cause a scene," I explain, releasing him from my hold. "I have a life here that _doesn't _involve killing people."

"Yep," Xigbar cuts in. "Just chipmunks."

"You son of a bitch," Isa insults me with a laugh and punches my shoulder before sitting at the table across from Xigbar. "It's been so long. I just…" He sighs and shrugs. "I can't believe I'm seeing you."

_Me neither, buddy. _

"Anyways, the main reason I'm here," Isa begins, twirling some of his hair homosexually, "is because I'm leaving here the day after tomorrow. I want you to come back home with me and visit for a week or so," he tells me, ceasing the gay-ass hair twirling. He sighs, pulling a quirky grin to his face. "You up for it?" he asks.

I beam. Man, I'd love to see what happened to my old flat. I haven't gone to a party with Isa in _ages_; I need an excuse to get away from Namine; and I could bring back something for Terrance. This could be perfect! "Hell yeah, man! Of course I wanna visit."

"That's fuckin' awesome!" Isa tells me.

"As if," Xigbar mutters. I realize that if I go, I'll be leaving him alone again. He has a job and all, but the hours are long and he spends a lot of time alone at home.

I pity him. I frown. "Uncle, if you don't want me to go…"

"Ha! Of course I want you to, kid! You have a life there, too. I was going to tell you to get the hell out of here and visit your best friend months ago but I doubted you would respect the suggestion." He pauses and sighs, sipping more of his black coffee. "You needed to hear it from your friend."

I understand what he is saying. I feel a bit guilty for wanting to leave him, but he's done the same before right? He should understand. At least I hope he does.

Like I said, he should by now.

"Alright! You hear that, Isa? I'm coming home!" I cheer, throwing an arm around my friend. He laughs with me. In this moment, all is well. All is fine. The laughter that graces my lips is full of spite for me, though Isa could never hear it. It is deep beneath this cheerful cover; so deep I hardly feel it.

I don't want him to know about Namine. I don't want him to know that I… I attempted to replace him. I recall now that nothing can replace this fucker. He has been there through everything for me. And I ditched him. What kind of sick bastard am I?

Ha. It's funny. I can almost hear him saying, _the kind that fucks kids_.

Maybe he would've said that six months ago, but I only go legal now. Namine's my age. Terrance is Isa's age. I don't want shit coming after me in the law department; Xigbar is a lawyer and all, but I don't want him having to cover my ass with everything I do. It's time I start taking responsibility for myself.

_I swear I'll set life right_.

X

"Isa, this is my buddy Terrance," I introduce my platinum friend to my silver friend. Whose place is golden? That's not your business. I mean, I guess it is but I don't want to think about who deserves gold because I won't give it to him… them… whatever. I just don't want to fucking think about it.

"Nice to meet you," Terrance says with his trademark _playa _smile. He uses that smile on girls. God, I told the dumbass that Isa is a guy, yet he insists on pointless lengths to practically hit on the poor dude. I mean, Isa doesn't like guys. I think he used to, but it was just me and that was just because I'm amazing.

Isa blandly returned both the greeting and a smirk of his own. "Sure it is," he says sarcastically.

I think it might be dangerous, but I hold up a finger as if to say _give me a minute_ because my stupid phone is vibrating in my pocket. I dash off to the side and huff as I pick up and practically yell _what_ at the person on the other line. Some fucking people have no respect for impeccable timing. I can think of a thousand and one _better _moments this shit could have called me. For all I know, Isa and Terrance could be either going at it or beating the shit out of each other.

"I'm sorry, Axel," Namine's timid voice apologizes. I can hear her eyes welling up with tears. I groan inwardly. She seriously needs to toughen up. "This is a bad time, isn't it?"

"Ya think?" I exclaim, tugging at my hair. The sun shining down on it today probably makes it look more orange than red, but I don't mind. I'm always going to be a pyro so I might as well go with that flow. Namine sniffles. Way to guilt trip me, bitch. "Nam, I'm sorry. I'm just in the middle of something important," I relate to her as sweetly as possible.

"Yes, because spending time with Terrance and some blue-haired _freak_ is important," she spits. I sharply turn this way and that. Where is she? How does she-!

"Ho-" I pause to hang up the phone. "-ly shit." She is right behind me, fuming. I don't think I've ever see her glare quite like this. I think she wants to hit me in the face. I have a hard time understanding. "Nam, what the hell are you doing here?"

"I asked Terrance if he wanted to hang out today, but he said he was with you and your friend," she yells. Gosh her voice gets squeaky when she tries to yell. Her throat isn't made for hard work. (Trust me; I know it's not _for a fact_.)

"Nam, please." I grab her shoulders firmly. She squirms and tries to wrench away from me. I hold her down with more of my strength. It's relatively unnecessary, but it can't hurt. "Namine, calm down. My friend Isa is here. You remember me telling you about Isa, right?"

Tears spill over her lower lid. She shakes her head. "I don't care. You lied to me. You said you were going to be with your uncle today," she sobs.

I sigh. "I thought so to, but Xigbar surprised me by having Isa come out here." Namine sniffles, tries to get rid of the tears futilely. I try to give her another benefit of the doubt. "You'll never guess what Isa told me! I get to go home for a week or so to visit," I excitedly inform her.

Big shocker here: she starts crying and yelling at me again. "You're horrible! First you lie, now you leave me! What's wrong with you, Axel?"

I let go of her shoulders, turn my back and rub my forehead while mouthing _fuck my life_. I turn back around and stare her deep in the eyes once I have an idea. "Namine, you didn't let me finish!" I laugh. Her eyes go wide and her eyebrows peak. "I want you to come with me," I tell her.

And the pitiful frown morphs into a huge grin. She throws her arms around my neck. I, startled, stumble back a little. I catch her with my arms around her waist. "Oh, Axel you're so wonderful!"

Then Isa and Terrance are walking over to us, Terrance with a smirk and Isa with a confused look on his emotionless face. I unravel Namine and keep an arm around her shoulder. She's way shorter than me so it's a little awkward, but no more than usual. "Namine, this is my best friend Isa. Isa, this is my girl Namine," I introduce them to each other.

Isa suddenly frowns. He looks genuinely upset. I tilt my head in question. He just shakes his, folding his arms and muttering something about it being nice to meet Nam. She beams. "I'm so excited to visit Axel's old home," she says cheerfully. Then she adds viciously, "It is okay if I come along… right?" I hope Isa doesn't catch how bitchy Namine actually is. I would feel awful. The dude's my best friend. My girlfriend is a bitch. Such is life.

"That's fine," Isa blandly succumbs to the power of the girl's evil undertone.

_I am so sorry, Isa. _

Yeah—what the psycho-voice in my head said.

* * *

You guys are effing amazing! The last chapter was so well received. I could cry! It was so sweet of you. Now I'm going to piss you off even more than this chapter probably did. I already finished writing this story. It's all over. And it doesn't get happier. Actually, it gets _way_ worse. But because I'm addicted to updating this, I decided to be a sweetheart and update today. Next update will come... whenever. I try scheduling, but I'm horrible at it. ^/^' Hope you enjoy this.  
And let's go for 10 reviews this time, eh?


	9. Here Alone

**Here Alone**

"Oh, no. No way in _hell_!" Isa whispers angrily at me. He throws his arms up in disgust. "You better be kidding me. There is _no_ way in fucking _hell_ that girl is staying here!"

Namine is in the other room on the couch, texting whoever the hell she is texting. I don't really care who she texts, just so long as she stays out of my argument with Isa. I give him my most pleading eyes possible. He glares back at me. I shrug innocently. "Come on, man. What do you want me to do? I told her she could visit here, too. You know that."

"Well maybe you should have thought about that before you started dating some dumb, blonde bitch, Ax! What the hell happened to you? You used to be fucking awesome. Now you're dangling off of the finger of some tiny little prick." His glare softens, but his gold gems are swelling with sadness as he talks.

Guilt-tripping bastard…

"Don't do this to me, man. I am _sorry_; I needed a change and then I met her." I clasp my hands together as if I am praying. Isa rolls his eyes at me. "Please, dear Lord. Tell me what I should do!"

He groans and rubs his head, toys with his hair. He rubs the side of his face roughly, lost in contemplation. After five boring minutes, he finally speaks. "I have an idea. Just remember that beggars can't be choosers," he warns me.

I excitedly jump up and down like a kid in a candy store. "Anything for you, I don't care. I love you so much, man. You're the best friend anyone could ever ask for," I tell him, hugging him in a way that makes me feel gay, but then again, I am partially. I care not, anyway. It is the best friend ever. "What's the plan?" I ask into his shoulder.

He awkwardly pats my back. "Get off of me so I can tell you." He grumbles, "You so owe me for this."

X

In the living room of Isa's flat, the two of us stand side-by-side before Namine, who looks confused and agitated at the same time. Maybe that is why I like her; she really is dead gorgeous.

"Nam," I begin, shoving my hands in my pockets. "You can't stay here," I state bluntly.

"…What?"

"This is Isa's flat and he only has room to put the two of us up. And it'd be really uncomfortable if you two had to stay in the same place since you just met each other. But," I explain to her that, "Isa's sister has plenty of room. You can stay with her on the other side of town. It's a fifteen minute drive one way, but I could come get you every morning." I try to make this sound as appealing as possible. It's not easy with her. She has a tendency to be very difficult. "Relane is an awesome chick. You two will get along just fine. We already arranged things so you could drop off your stuff and move in tonight. I have to get settled here anyway, so… what do you think?"

Namine's arms are folded, immobile across her chest. She is glaring sternly, shaking her head. "I don't know why you want to get rid of me so badly."

"That's not true!" I lie, moving closer to her to place a light kiss on her lips. I feel her face get hot under the hand I have lightly touching her cheek.

When she pulls back, embarrassed of the affectionate display, she approves the plan Isa and I bullshitted. "I guess it makes sense. When can we leave?"

I grin, release her, and turn around to look at Isa. I give him a thumb up. I mouth _hell yeah._ He winks and returns the gestures.

_Success, motherfucker! _

Good. There is one more excuse keeping me from spending time with my girlfriend.

_I hate her._

I don't. She just kind of pisses me off sometimes.

You know who I have yet to call since the last time I saw him? I should really go visit him. I turn to Namine and tell her that I have someone I need to visit. She nods in agreement and tells me that she and Isa can sort through our entire load of luggage.

I hope he's home, because this apology is long overdue.

X

I stand at his front door nervously, fix my hair in the window next to it. I raise my fist. Come on, Axel. You can knock. Are you going to knock? Raise your fist and knock, damn it. Stop being such a pussy. This should not be this difficult.

The door swings open on its own. I come face to face with Zexion. His eyes are wide. He asks me what I am even doing at his house. I tell him it would take far too long to explain. He tells me he has time. I follow him in and sit on his couch. We reminisce of the old times.

"Remember when I lit that squirrel on fire last time I was here?" I ask, laughing. Zexion's lips curl slightly. "I am _so_ sorry about that. Things were different then."

"It's quite alright. How are things with you and Roxas?" he asks.

…_Twitch._

_…I…_

I avert my eyes. "I don't talk to him anymore. I have a girlfriend," I articulate, the words sounding so weird coming from my mouth. It feels like those words are wrong. "Her name is Namine."

Zexion's mouth forms an O. He leans back into his large leather chair. "I never imagined. Hm. Isn't that interesting. What is she like?"

I groan and throw my head back, bursting into choked laughs. "She complains and she's needy. She never shuts up. She always accuses me wrongly and she doesn't know jack shit about my life before her. She pretends that she is the only person I ever dated." I chuckle darkly. "She makes me so mad, but what can I do?"

"It sounds as though you don't like her in a romantic way," my icy therapist notes. My head shoots up. I blink a few times. "If she really irritates you that much, why not break up with her?" he asks me.

I shrug and offhandedly state, "Because she's my lighter. She burns things for me so I no longer have to."

"That doesn't sound very healthy, Axel."

"So? Since when did I care? The girl's a bitch and all, but she does the dirty work for me." I crack a cocky smile. "Besides, she's not a bad fuck. As long as I'm not burning down houses or squirrels things are fine, right?"

Zexion shakes his head and inhales sharply, exhaling deeply. "To each his own, I suppose."

I frown. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"We can each live our own lives. Though I never expected this is where yours would go and I'm rather disappointed that I was wrong…"

"Zexy, do we have company?" a voice echoes. It sounds familiar. Why?

When the same bitch that made me leave home in the first place, that boy Demyx, walks in from the other room, I almost shit bricks. He stands there, stunned. We are both frozen in place. His eyes go wide with fear as mine narrow with rage. This is all his fault. What the fuck is he doing here anyway?

"…Axel…" he whispers in utter shock.

I push myself to my feet. I clench and unclench my fists, crack out my knuckles. I warn him, "I'll give you five seconds before I beat the shit out of you, you fucking bastard."

"What?" he yelps, startled.

"Five!" I scream, leaping at him, putting him in a chokehold and throwing him to the ground. He is on his back, calling for help. I straddle him with a ferocious, nasty look on my face.

Zexion yells for me to get off of Demyx.

I yell back, "Fuck you!" I grab Demyx's shirt by the front of the shoulders. "You little fuck! You wrecked my fucking life!" I scream, punching him hard in the jaw.

"Axel, get off of him!" Zexion demands.

I shake my head and put my hands at the base of the blonde's throat. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting to do this." A malicious voice erupts from me. The other me—the me that burned down Cloud Strife's home when I was merely a boy—emerges from deep within my body. "I want to _kill you_," I hiss.

"Axel, don't you dare kill Demyx," Zexion threatens.

I release the kid's shirt and turn to scowl at Zexion. "Or else what, you'll ruin my life? Before this little fucker came along, everything was stable in my life for a change. I had great friends. I was happy for once. And…"

_It's time. You can say it, Axel._

I don't want to remember him. Take him away.

_As if; he's a part of you. I could never get rid of him, even if I tried._

Do it anyway. I want to forget him forever. That's why I left—to forget my friendship with Cloud Strife and relationship with…

_Say his name._

I can't…

_Say it, you dumb bastard!_

Geez, when the hell did you get so mean?

_When did you get so fucking stupid? Your girlfriend is a bitch and your 'friend' Terrance is an ass to your best friend Isa._

It's not my fault. What was I supposed to do, be alone forever? I wanted a fresh start.

_Then start over now. Be a man. Get out from under your rock and remember Roxas._

"I was happy for once and I had an amazing boyfriend that made me feel alive. But you, Demyx, ruined it you stupid son of a bitch," I state, gripping his throat.

"Don't do this, Axel." Zexion shakes his head in disapproval. I can feel the shame he has in me emitting from every pore in his body. I don't care. My life was destroyed by one comment. Even though I cannot completely blame Demyx, I can for part of it. He had no right to say anything to me in the first place. "Nothing good can come of this."

"Yes it will," I say, disgust in my voice. "I can end the life that ended mine." I laugh hysterically. This is great! I whip my lighter out of my pocket. "It's time to say good-bye, motherfucker." I flick the switch. A small fire floats before my eyes. I yank Demyx's left arm out from under my knee.

God, I missed this. I trail my finger lightly up the screaming boy's forearm. He is shrieking at the top of his lungs, but my ears are so flooded with the whisper of the flame that I can hardly hear. I touch the tip of the flame to Demyx's arm. He screams. I laugh as the skin slowly burns away, layer by layer, leaving crumpled, rust-colored remains. What I wouldn't give to just ignite him completely. Oh wait—I can. I move the lighter to his shirt's collar.

Before I even know what is happening, I am shoved off of Demyx fiercely. I go flying off of him, lighter slipping from my hands and fire stopping as it goes soaring. Zexion is on top of me, crushing my ribs under his left knee. I choke on air and throw him off of me, roll over onto my hands and knees. I growl. Animal instinct kicks in. I jump on top of Zexion and immediately start wailing on him. It becomes a mess of punches and japs, kicks and screams.

"You told him, didn't you?" I scream between heavy breaths as I throw another fist his way.

Zexion blocks it and shoves it aside, looking to hit me in the stomach. "I trust him not to tell anyone!"

"And look where that trust got you!" I remind him, going into a backflip and landing on my feet. I quickly shove Zexion down, pinning him to the wood flooring with my left foot. He coughs. "You swore on your life you would never tell anyone. I can't believe I listened to you."

"Axel, please. You don't understand!" he tries to explain, but I don't believe him. I don't care. He told someone my darkest secret against a Hippocratic Oath of psychology.

"Fuck you, Zexion. I hate your guts. Burn in hell." I kick him once in the ribs to put an exclamation point on my comment. I walk towards the door to leave, grabbing a small pack of matches from the table near the foyer. I put my hand on the knob then drop it. It would be way too obvious if I did anything in the front yard. I turn around and head for the sliding door to the backyard- the same back yard I ignited a squirrel in half a year ago.

I get outside, searching for gasoline. I know for a fact he does his own work on his car. He should have oil for routine oil-changes. _Success,_ I think with a diabolical grin as I find the oil. I don't intend on anything large-scale; I just want it to be large enough to make a splash.

I dump the oil into the pool, grinning as it coats the top. I light a single match and stare into the small flame. Here goes nothing. I toss the match into the pool, run top-speed to the front of the house, jump in my car, and hustle the hell out of there.

Good thing I parked in front of a different house.

* * *

Me thinks the boy has angst problems. . I enjoyed writing this chapter so much! It was fun writing anger. I do that sometimes.  
Guess how many chapters are after this? Two. xD Two or three. It depends. I think it's two. :)


	10. Angel Layer

**Angel Layer**

My little house-fire made the six o clock news. Isa told me when I entered his flat around eight. I have no intentions of seeing Namine again today—especially not after _that_. Should I be ashamed? I am, I suppose. I don't really know. It's all kind of a blur. Everything I've done is a blur. I don't care for this life anymore. I wouldn't care if it ended right now. Frankly, I think I'd be pleased. Either way, Isa told me he was going to take me to my favorite old haunt as a reward for not getting myself caught.

My favorite old haunt? Uh, that would bitch-ass house party in the burbs that doesn't end until four in the fucking morning. Tonight we go to a Marluxia Jackson party. Those are fucking _infamous_. It's going to be one crazy night.

So Isa drives me over to Marluxia's place in his new Prius that I insulted the shit out of for it being gayer than what. When we show up, the music is blasting and it's all underway. I walk in with my main man next to me. The first thing that happens is Relane bounding up to us with the homeowner on her arm.

If Relane is here, then who is with Namine?

"Isa, you're here! And you brought Axel," she says with a sigh and a fond smile. "In case you didn't know, this is my boyfriend Marluxia."

I pivot my head, trying to look around and see if she is here, praying to God she is not. "Where's Namine? Is she back at your place?"

Relane laughs. "Don't worry. I put something in her drink back at my house and she was out like a light. I didn't want her ruining my evening," she explains.

_Thank God!_ I say with a relieved breath. "Thank you _so much_. The last thing I need to deal with is that annoying brat," I tell her as quietly as possible so long as she can hear me over the music. She laughs. Isa elbows me. I turn to him to see him smiling a dashing, charming smile. I think about how good of friends they are.

And I left this life for Trenton? 'The fuck is wrong with me?

I relax my upper body and peer over my shoulder to see if there's anything good behind me.

What I see makes me- at first –smile like an idiot. I pat Isa on the shoulder as if to say_ BRB_. As I get closer, though, my heart breaks. I think I'm going to puke…

At first I see Roxas, the Roxas, smiling coyly and sipping a drink… I want to run up to him and take him right there. I miss him so much. I know I try not to think about it, but I do. Seeing him right here reminds me of everything lucid about those beautiful blue eyes. It reminds me of how my last evening with him was spent having sex on the roof of a building at sunset.

Then I see him wrap his arm around the waist of the black-haired girl I recognize as Xion from the few times I went to that support group.

My heart—my obliterated heart which takes so much beating—breaks right there, right then.

When his head turns in my direction, his eyes meet mine in a daze of drunken mist. I feel this spark that I miss so much. I feel myself erupt inside, emotion overflowing within my body.

I involuntarily start taking steps toward him. I can see his eyes go white with worry. He whispers something to Xion and pushes her away. I could have pushed her away. I want to. I want to take back what's rightfully mine. I can feel Isa staring at me in misperception behind my back, but I don't care. Nothing else matters right now. I want this to end. If I can end this now, I'll never worry again. I'll never take another life.

Well, maybe _one_ more.

Roxas closes the gap between us. I notice he has grown. He is up to my shoulders now. His eyes have also gotten bluer. His hair has gotten wilder. I didn't think it was possible, but he got even more stunning in the time I was gone.

He tells me mildly, "I think we should talk somewhere private."

I nod in agreement and follow him down a set of stairs into an empty basement. He leads me farther away from the party and into an ambient room at the end of a long hall.

The door closes behind me.

"I don't want to talk to you," he tells me blandly, setting down his half-empty cup, sitting on the edge of the large bed. "I hate you, you know."

"I've never seen anyone express hatred so calmly," I admit, sitting down next to him. He scoots away from me. I totally expected this, but. You know. It still hurts, deep in my heart.

"Well I'm not _anyone_," he sneers, coldly turning his back to me. "You left me. I begged you not to leave, but you never cared."

"That's not true, Roxas," I say softly. I want to touch him. I reach out my hand and struggle to set it on his shoulder. I am frozen.

I can't… do it.

Why..?

"Axel…" he says my name. I love the way it sounds on his lips. Oh what I would do if I could have his lips on mine one more time. He turns around and looks at me, tears pouring from his eyes, biting his lower lip.

The vision of angelic beauty, with his heavenly blue whirlpool eyes, cracks the tiniest teasing smile imaginable. He gets on his knees and reaches out. Cautiously he presses his hand against mine and laces our fingers. They fit perfectly together. It feels like our hands mold together purely with the help of destiny. I turn my body most of the way so I can see his beautiful body and shimmery, swirling eyes.

He opens his mouth to speak. I hear the words _I love you_, but not in his voice. No. They come from me. I tell Roxas I love him and it feels like a thousand weights have been lifted from my chest. My chains of burden and regret lift from around my neck and disappear. Roxas' eyes go wider than the moon. Before I can cohere it and respond, he pounces on me and forces (not really) his lips onto mine. I am pushed back so I am lying down; Roxas still kissing me like tomorrow does not exist. It's not an _I want to own you and fuck you and get nasty with you_ make out that we get into. It feels a lot more like, _I missed you. Never leave me again, you fucking idiot._

I grab his ass and hike him up farther on my body. I bend my knee so it sticks up between his legs, pressing against his groin. He moans into our kiss. Damn this feels good. I think I'm going to explode. I love that sound he makes between desperation, need, and desire. I rub my hands up and down his side, then slide them up his shirt and feel his body's contours. He pulls back for a brief second only to whisper, "Take me."

_I'd be delighted_.

I roll over so that he is now beneath me. I straddle his thighs, taking my time unbuttoning his pants. He squirms under me. He demands that I hurry up.

_Ha. I want to take my sweet time with this._

"We're going to do this right," I tell him, pulling his pants down farther than I probably need to. I'd much more prefer they come _off_, but just in case someone comes in, ya know?

Then again, since when did I care? His pants hit the floor.

x

I lie next to Roxas, whose body is heated and next to mine, curled against me. I stare up at the ceiling. What does this mean? Am I his lover now? Are we boyfriends? What is this? Why did I come back? Did I do it for one good fuck? Do I even _know_? What the hell did I just do?

Hearing Roxas yawn quietly in his sleep makes something deep within me twinge. A slight smile graces my tired mouth. With all that shit I just did I should be asleep, but no. I am wide awake and watching this kid sleep. But he should be sixteen now so he is not a cute little kid. Not always. He has the potential to be one sexy bitch.

"Axel..?" Roxas small voice checks on me quietly.

"Yeah," I respond equally softly, looking down at his perfect face. God I love this. I don't deserve it in the slightest, but I love it.

"I love you," he says groggily, wrapping both his arms around one of mine. He peers up at me with those huge eyes and my heart melts. Little bastard knows just how to drive me crazy. That must be why I came back; Namine is a bitch and Roxas knows how to be a receiver. "Just thought I'd let you know," he laughs softly.

I kiss the side of his head I don't have to lean over to reach. "You're beautiful," I tell him accidentally. I realize what I said and immediately lie back down, my face red.

_He didn't hear that. He didn't hear that_. _He definitely didn't hear that._

"And you're amazing," he retorts. I flush. "You never did give me a good reason as to why you left. Where'd you go, anyway?"

All the different _cute_ emotions dissipate from the moment. I refuse to let them come back. I try to keep things vague when I explain to him what happened. That is, until, the door is thrown open by a very pissed-looking Namine.

_Ah, fuck._

_

* * *

_Yep, this is second-to-last. That's not including the random thing I have for after the end, but I want to put those two in the same chapter. So I will. You're going to hate me for this sooo much. I'm sorry, but this is how it's going to end. I had fun writing, but... Next chapter's last.


	11. Dead End

Areyouready? Areyouready? Can you feel it Mr. Krabs? Can you feel it Mr. Crabs? I can feel it! It is right down in the recesses of my heart in which I am about to thank you from for making this story what it is. I wouldn't have had the motivation to finish without you guys. I go through tons of stories and rarely finish one, but you brought this here and for that I am eternally greatful. Here's to the fantastic people that reviewed: Phantasmal Abduction, Lady-Larxene, TheAdventuresOfWaffleGirl, Miss Magenta, BeehiveOneThreeZer0, Dork Face, NormaJean Beausoleil, Spry Striker X, xMisaki-chan, Deadly Nightshade1395, PwoperFish, Imorb, Zarai, Lexi-rawn, DolceNeko, Taoki, AngelScar01.

(In no particular order other than whom I saw on the list, just so you know.)

Also, I have a question for you. I want to know whether or not I should write a sequel to this bad boy. If you think so, just let me know via whatever way you find fit. I already have it planned out in case you want one. Ask and you shall receive.

I love you and apologize profusely for the ending you are about to read. It may suck. It may make you cry. I don't know; I'm just hoping it's at least sort-of well-received. …Here goes everything.

Love,

Scotty.

**Dead End**

_"Why are you giving me an alcohol-filled squirt gun? And… matches? What is this?"_

_"I need you to douse me with the alcohol, then hand me a lit match."_

_"What are you trying to accomplish with this, Axel?"_

_"It'll make amends for what I've done."_

_"Amends?"_

_"Don't play stupid, Cloud. You know I killed your parents. You knew it the first time we met when you asked me about arson."_

_"Axel…"_

_"It's an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. This is what has to happen. You can get revenge for your parents, I die in peace. It's a win-win situation."_

_"What about Roxas?"_

_"This isn't about Roxas. This is about you and me."_

_"You want _me_ to kill you?"_

_"That's the plan."_

_"…You're crazy."_

_"Please, Cloud. If you don't, I'll kill myself."_

_"…What brought this about in the first place?"_

_"I look at the people around me and hate myself more and more. I wake up every morning knowing that I took your family from you. It's not fun to live with."_

_"Then why did you do it?"_

_"Because I was fourteen! I was fucking stupid, Cloud. Just do this for me."_

_"Why should I do anything for you if you killed my parents?"_

_"Because you can get revenge on the man that killed them; isn't that what you've always wanted?"_

_"Not like this, Axel. I thought we were friends."_

_"You're fucking crazy then. I did too."_

_"So you admit to being crazy?"_

_"I wouldn't be asking you to burn me if I didn't."_

_"…Are you positive you want this?"_

_"Is my real name Lea?"_

_"Is it?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Then okay… I'll do it."_

Roxas stopped in front of an empty residential lot. He had been running through the entire neighbor trying to find Axel. He could hear him talking to Cloud, but was unable to find them. Now here he was, standing at the former location of the Strife home, watching Cloud spray Axel down with a squirt gun. Roxas watched in horror as Axel's hair clung to his neck in dampness. It looked like he was sweating. If this were not so disgusting for the boy to watch, he would have thought Axel looked fantastic wet. Roxas couldn't move. He was frozen, watching Cloud strike a match against the package. It ignites.

Axel stood straight, immobile as Cloud intensely bored holes into him with his eyes. "Are you sure you want me to do this?" Cloud asked.

Axel sighed and glanced up at the porch. He saw Roxas standing there. There was no turning back now. If this ended here, he would never have to explain. He would never live another day knowing he took the lives of others. This was what he wanted. This was what he had waited years for. He nodded. "Fire away."

Cloud flicked the match from between his fingers. In slow-motion, it twirled in the air, spinning until it struck Axel's doused body. Roxas' jaw dropped.

"Axel!" he screamed. In the split second between hearing his name and the match striking him, Axel gave one final smile. Roxas' heart split in two at that moment.

Axel's body was immediately engulfed in flames. Normally people would run around screaming or try to put themselves out, but he stood there, fists clenched, head tilted back, fire roaring around him; smoke billowing from his burning body. Level after level of skin seared off his body. He allowed himself to be scorched. His hair was gone, scalp being charred now. He was dying and he knew it.

His last thoughts were peaceful—romantic, in a way… if that way was sick and twisted.

_Thank you, Cloud. I wish there was some way I could repay you for all I have done or asked of you. I wish… I could go back and beg you not to light me on fire. It kind of hurts, but not really. Please remind Roxas I'll always be watching out for him in my second life when I couldn't during my first. Also, make sure he gets the letter I wrote him. It's on his bed at your flat._

His body crumpled in on itself. His soul left his body and disintegrated into space.

_Well,_ he thought with a chuckle. _That's the end of that_.

Roxas dashed down the porch steps to Axel's body after ages of not moving at all. His jaw dropped to the ground. Sobs erupted from him.

Cloud, indifferent to the event, looked up to the sky. _I guess you accepted the responsibility. There must be nothing wrong with building houses out of matchsticks, huh?_ He glanced down one time at Axel's body before his eyes returned to the sky. _There's one thing you didn't learn from playing with fire—you always get burned._

x

**Letters - Epilogue**

_Axel,_

_I bet wherever you are you're reading this. You're probably being a pedophile over my shoulder while I write this. I swear I can feel you here. Not a day goes by when I don't miss you. I doubt I'll ever understand why you did what you did, but as I've learned, I knew nothing about you._

_Isa says hi and that he found love in someone named Terrance (whoever that is). He said you would be shocked shitless if you find out. You're dead. You can't shit, can you?_

_Those guys, Zexion and Demyx moved in together apparently. I got an invitation to their wedding. I was confused because I never knew Zexion, but I remember meeting Demyx a couple times in therapy. I couldn't go, though. I had prior engagements, but you stalk me. You already know about it. Zexion also said that if you were still alive, he would have dropped all charges he could have held against you. He's not that bad, y'know._

_Your ex-girlfriend Namine hates me, but she hates you more. I wonder who got the better end of the deal._

_Cloud has gone into reclusion again, but he has been very different since… well, you know. He seems lighter. He smiles more, but sometimes I walk past his room at night and hear him crying or praying to you. Do you get those prayers? Do you know how killing you made him feel? It pretty much destroyed him. You better feel guilty._

_I doubt you care about what has happened to me._

_Ouch! Is it me, or did someone just push one of my pressure points really hard? That must be you, bitching at me like you usually do. I hope you can't read this. It's embarrassing. Can you _please_ stop? The shoulder massage is really distracting me, but damn does it feel good._

_As for me, I don't think I'll ever love again. I don't want to. It took me a few days to fall in love with you and it would take me a few lifetimes to get over you. I'll be dead and in your arms again before I stop loving you. Who knows: if you're a good boy I might take you back after this shit. I should hate you. I should want to ignore you. I should pretend you never existed, but something about you… it's branded on my body everywhere you ever touched. I miss the feeling of your lips on mine or our fingers entwined. Having you around was pure excitement. You burned your existence into me where I'll never get rid of it. I don't want to, either. As long as I know you're somewhere, whether it be with me or with someone else, I think I can manage sanity. At least for a little while longer, anyway._

_One day, you better make this up to me. You owe me so much it's ridiculous._

_And stop pulling at my fucking pants! I don't want to get caught banging a dead guy. Besides, you're way hotter when you're visible. Try it some time. _

_Roxas._

_Roxas,_

_If I were writing this on paper, rest assured I would give it to you. I'm sure you _would_ like to know why I had Cloud do what he did. I could go off on all 485793 reasons why and it still would not be enough to match the 485794 reasons you could come up with as to why I should have stayed with you. Love does that to people, doesn't it? It makes us crazy. That's probably part of why I wanted to leave. It's weird, knowing that you're crazy. The last minor thing in my life was craziness. I listened to Namine bitch at me for over an hour before she shut up and let me talk and explain everything that happened with you. I don't know why I ever dated her; attempting to replace you was a mistake._

_I don't intend on leaving your side as your guardian angel anytime soon. I want to stay by you forever. Oh, and if you try to leave me I'll come back from the dead and kick your ass._

_Which reminds me—sorry for dying on you. You know I love you._

_Axel._


	12. Or Never Sequel Preview

**For The Faithful:**

Thanks eternally for making Matchstick Houses so popular! As a reward, here's a little piece of what's to come in its sequel: Or Never. I just felt like teasing you or letting you think what you will about this little segment. It's from the beginning of it and chapter one will hopefully be up around Sunday. I know. A whole week. _Tor-ture!_ Cest La Vi. Enjoy this while you can and tell me what you think because this is where it's going to start.

_My skin feels like it's burning off, peeling away from my body layer by melted layer. I open my mouth to scream at the top of my lungs, but nothing comes out. The numb stinging runs up and down my nervous system, leaving charred veins wherever its disgusting feet tread. Is my body being pulled apart? Is a saw slicing through my limbs? Is someone going to stop this death? Will no one rescue me?_

_A small hand rests on my shoulder._

_Then the pain stops._

_My deep emerald eyes flutter open. Before me stands a lovely brunette with a braid running down her back and bangs that remind me of someone else's in a way. Who was the other girl that wore their bangs that way? Was it... Relane? Yes! Relane had the same bangs only backwards and less attractive. This girl before me is not as bony as Relane and is far more beautiful than Isa's sister ever could be no matter how much make up she slapped on._

_"Axel," a motherly voice calls out to me. It does not belong to his mother, though. It positively cannot. My mother is alive and well, unlike me. I suppose you could call me 'dead and just fine'. _

_I died a year ago._

_Well technically it is somewhere between a day and a year. Does it matter? When you are dead time does not matter at all. I have nowhere to go; nothing to do. I could always go bother Roxas, but sometimes he gets irritated with me for randomly popping in on his life._

_"Axel, look at me," the woman before me requests sweetly. I comply and stare up into her large blue eyes. "That's better. How are you feeling?"_

_I groan as I prop myself up on one arm. "That depends. How long have I been dead?" I retort, scratching my ever-spikey, fiery hair. It feels noticeably shorter. Huh. That is weird._

_The woman tilts her head and smiles. I realize she looks like no more than a girl. She is long and lean, soft-faced and her hand on my bare shoulder is even softer. "However long you think is probably right," she says sheepishly._

_So about a year then…_

_"Who are you?" I ask the woman, "Why are you here? What do you want from me?"_

_She laughs openly, smiling in a heart-stopping way. "You ask too many questions," she tells me. "I want nothing from you; just to know whether or not you want a second chance at life."_

_x_

HA. And it cuts of there. At that X. Does it hurt? Does it burn? I hope not. Remember: BY SUNDAY. You have my word.  
Hopefully my word is worth something. -_-'

Scotty


	13. Or Never Spoiler!

Or Never's first chapter is finally up! Thank you so much for supporting this story. It means more than the world to me. If you haven't already, go read it. You'll find it on my profile. :)  
And if you're reading this, consider yourself lucky because I originally wasn't going to do this, but I want to tempt you into reading this like a siren seduces her prey. So do you know what time it is?

**Spoiler Time!**

I'm only giving you a couple things, but you still get them anyway. I know a few authors that never spoil. I know a few authors that gladly spoil for me on their own accord. (Like when I read Close Your World) But I'm seriously only going to tell you literally a couple things. Only two. I'm nice, though. I think that this should give you a little motivation to keep up with it if you weren't planning on it or if you haven't started it yet.

1. The anonymous note in the first chapter written in ones and zeros is written in binary code. When I originally used a translator and tried to add the code on here, FFN wouldn't let it. It is meant to read, "You did not kill the Strife family."

2. The story is going to be told from both first and third person, two third-person narrations following around two characters that _aren't_ Axel but interact with him at some point; and one of them is trying to kill him. Guess who!

**Endddd.**

Did I just waste your time? Basically that's all I wanted to do. I just wanted to tell you those things ahead of time.  
Also, I get lonely. :(  
But your reviews make me happy. This is not a guilt-trip, just me letting you know that I love you for making me feel less lonely. School ends tomorrow and I'm sort-of grieving that I'll probably lose half my friends over summer like I did last year. -.-' That's high school, though. At least I never have to be a freshman again!

Woooop derrr it eee-isss


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